Kale

I hate kale. I don’t particularly mind it as a food, although I will always choose chard as a tastier option, but I hate growing it. Mostly because I don’t have to grow it. It just grows.

Twelve years ago, I planted a mesclun mix that included a variety of kale. At the time, I had a baby, so I failed t pick it before it went to seed. (I don’t have any babies any more and I still fail at this - more on the defiled tomato beds later.) And from that one year, that one mistake, kale has invaded my entire property.

The original garden bed is now purely made up of volunteer kale. It’s a field of greens that grows year round. We made the mistake for supplementing some of our potting soil with that dirt and now two of our garden beds and most of our herbs in pots have to fight against it. And it grows so happily that the stalks will be an inch thick. It is the plant that will not die.

Worst of all, however, is how surrounded I am by betrayers. The kids happily eat the kale out of the beds, using it as both a snack and an ingredient in various soups, potions, and decorations for mud pies. The dogs love it, happily chewing on the thick stalks and enjoying nibbling at it on hot summer days. And Forrest will go out in the summer, disappear with a bowlful and return with annoyingly delicious kale chips. No one will help me in my war against kale.

Except for the cats. They understand, like me, that plants are all well and good when they’re wanted, but when they start taking over, they become weeds, no matter how nutritious and wholesome they are.

I have no witty ending, so larger life lesson here, except this. When gardening, and perhaps in life, be careful which seeds you plant. You many end up with a whole yard full of…kale.