A Byrd<p>Once upon a time, I met a small-time farmer who sold garlic at a Seattle farmer&#39;s market. At that time I thought all garlic came in one variety: small and white, the kind you find at the grocery story. Garlic was garlic. There wasn&#39;t much variety.<br />This farmer blew my mind with the varieties they had. Black garlic, elephant garlic, French red garlic, Bulgarian garlic, purple garlic; all the different varieties in all different sizes. The best part is that he knew which varieties would go best in what I was cooking. Their face lit up as I was all too happy to learn what they knew about this precious plant.<br />I went home with three different bulbs. Don&#39;t remember what varieties they were now, but I do remember that farmer. I remember wanting to be as dedicated to a plant as they were. To feel the same kind of joy in sharing knowledge. <br />Maybe its time to plant some garlic now that I have my own tiny patio garden.<br /><a href="https://ioc.exchange/tags/BloomStories" class="mention hashtag" rel="tag">#<span>BloomStories</span></a> <a href="https://ioc.exchange/tags/bloomscrolling" class="mention hashtag" rel="tag">#<span>bloomscrolling</span></a> <a href="https://ioc.exchange/tags/garlic" class="mention hashtag" rel="tag">#<span>garlic</span></a> <a href="https://ioc.exchange/tags/Gardening" class="mention hashtag" rel="tag">#<span>Gardening</span></a> <a href="https://ioc.exchange/tags/GardenStories" class="mention hashtag" rel="tag">#<span>GardenStories</span></a> <a href="https://ioc.exchange/tags/microfiction" class="mention hashtag" rel="tag">#<span>microfiction</span></a></p>