Yesterday, Sunday, was quite a quiet day for me, for a wonder. I had scheduled two things to do, after I finally got up and indulged in my epicurean Sunday morning breakfast, a cheese omelet and a pumpernickel bagel.
I had decided, the evening before, to make bread and to write the article for the LCN. Those done in good time, I ambled up to get the Sunday paper.
Along the way, I discovered my daughter-in-law, sitting on her breezeway, deep into shelling beans. I got the paper, and came back, and told her, “I can help with that.” She brought me a chair and a glass of ice water to ease the heat, and I had at it.
Admittedly, I’m slow…very slow…but I did manage to do a few beans while we chatted about this, that, and the other thing. She had grown more beans than ever before, because last year’s crop hadn’t lasted the winter. This year’s surely would.
She had been at shelling them for a week or more, and told me that was where the work was, with beans. “I plant them, leave them alone, harvest them, then have to go to work.”
She mentioned that she had a few more things still in the garden…beets, carrots, radishes, parsnips…would I like some? Sure I would; I told her how unsuccessful I had been trying to pull a carrot a few days before. I knew I wasn’t strong, but being unable to do a simple thing like pull a carrot? Unheard of!
She reassured me…they’re so deep, they have to be spaded, loosened up, before they’ll come out.
I came home and took my nap, then came back downstairs, fed the dog (it was already that late), and wandered out here to the North Room for my daily round of solitaire. That finished, I returned to the living room/kitchen, and found my sink full of goodies from the garden…beets, carrots, and a few radishes; enough to keep me going for several days.
At this point, I had one lone tomato left, which I immediately ate, so I was mighty glad to be on the receiving end of this added bounty. Everything is especially sweet, when it’s right out of the garden. Store-bought doesn’t hold a candle to fresh veggies.
I consider myself quite fortunate to be able to enjoy them, even though I don’t grow them myself.
A garden is a lovesome thing.
