Dreaming of Chili Peppers

Last night I dreamed of chili peppers.

I've been having trouble getting my pepper plants to pollinate, and have been fretting over them. Watching the pale white flowers unfurl so enthusiastically only to shrivel up a few days later and fall off--stem and all--is rather heartbreaking. Besides, I want my peppers.

So far I've only got the one guy pictured above, an anaheim. So obviously I dote on him by taking far too many pictures and nearly knocking him off the stem trying to get a good angle. That's love, alright!

In my dream last night, I was checking up on this pepper when I suddenly looked down and saw fully ripe chili peppers nestled in the dirt. They were bright orange and yellow and red. They seemed to laugh at me, saying, "Silly woman! All you had to do was look for us!"

Anyone who's ever grown fruits or vegetables knows that these plants have a mysterious way of showing nothingnothingnothing. Nothin' but leaf. Then one morning you're casually watering your plants without even expecting anything and you notice one, no two, wait THREE! little fruitlings where there was nothing a minute ago, you swear.

So this is why I half-expected to come out to the garden this morning and find yellow and orange hot peppers winking at me from between the leaves.

Alas, nothing. Just this guy. So we go back to waiting and pretending to expect nothing.