Can you make do with a photo of an apple? From our “old orchard?” The one that typically delivers very many unappealing, untasty apples? But today, for a change, delivered this exceptional beaut?
No? Well, too bad. It was a gorgeous apple.
I so wanted to write that I put my computer out on the porch even before I readied our breakfast fruits and cereals. Nothing will stand in my way!
I worked. With breaks for the beetle hunt. (That's where Ed and I compete as to how many nasty beetles we can find and shake off into our soapy water solution, so that the roses can bloom and the bees can collect pollen and life can continue as we know it.)
And yeah, Ed brought over to the porch where I was working warmed tomato slices with cheese curds, damn it, too many, too many. I reminded him that when I write I hardly move and perhaps cheese curds are not well matched to those moments.
In the afternoon we motor biked to Paul’s and I worked there as well, except Paul cut his finger severely while chopping cilantro and so that was quite the distraction. Ed turned all solicitous which probably freaked Paul out as Ed is never the solicitous type when shit happens. (He just tallies forth, because, you know, it’s life and shit happens.)
We went to the Fitchburg market and the corn was good, so good that we bought a dozen ears and so now I have to shuck and trim and freeze all that corn. It will be worth it, come wintertime. Now, it’s just a thing to add to my list.
At the market, we also bought our weekly supply of cheese curds. It’s cool to watch kids come up and sample cheese curds. Imagine her sampling the first one, with that squeek that only a fresh curd can provide.
I admired the tomatoes. You can’t get me to get excited about tomatoes these days and yet...
We also bought a melon. Why not.
And on our way back, we played tennis because I cannot become sedentary, no matter what. And then – home. To our gardens, our foods, my writing.