Peter Piper

I have no logical explanation for the red and green explosion that is happening right now in my family room, where a couple of seeds we planted 2½ years ago continues to produce a plethora of peppers that would make Peter Piper proud.

Against all odds, those little red hot chili peppers rooted themselves in our indoor planter and began to thrive.

Oh, we Googled a bit and tested a technique or two. We learned, for instance, that you can dip a Q-tip in one pepper flower and then another to pollinate the plant. Absent bees, that’s what we did.

We proudly documented our first fruit on Oct. 30, 2018. Really, that would have been enough success for us, solid proof of that unconventional garden’s fertile ground.

But, those little peppers continued to pop — against a window pane that sometimes invited too much sun, and could not protect against the icy cold. We watered carefully when we remembered and apologized profusely when we forgot. The leaves wilted a time or two, but the plants themselves continued to thrive — through seasons and then years.

We had to admire the little buggers and the strong roots they developed.

I often wonder if two pepper patriarchs we know had a hand in helping us produce our seemingly endless bumper crop.

Last weekend, we harvest three different peppers, tested their spiciness and discovered a range from intriguing to ouch! (or a little too hot for our palate). All of them ended up in a guacamole mixed up by a fellow who has made that his specialty.

I worry about jinxing things as I write this post, but I also know good news can breed positivity in ways no one can predict.

So, here’s to my implausible passel of peppers! Long may they continue to thrive.