What foolishness got into me when I signed Ed and me up for strawberry picking at Tipi's Farms? Do I really have nothing better to do then to devote the needed couple of hours for this? Will I even be here to eat all those strawberries?
It's our thing, that's what it is. We do these fruit picks, and only after bringing home boxes full of berries do we wonder why we needed so many. We've made jams, and we still have many jars of those in storage. These days, neither one of us eats croissants for breakfast. I spread jam on nut butter on the rare occasion I make myself a lunch. So... if not for jamming or baking, then for what??
It's the pleasure of picking fresh berries in mid-June. The smell of a just-picked fruit, the taste of one warmed by the sun -- it's really a June gift for us. So I signed us up.
But first, a very early morning with Millie.
It'll be a scorcher today, and beyond toasty for the early days of the week. Which means there will be storms. Not great timing, considering I have 15 plants for today, and 35 plants to put in on Monday. We will see how that goes!
We're at the Tipi farm by 10. It's all rather nostalgic. These guys were our CSA veggie farmers for many years. But they're both in our age bracket and so they retired from CSA work.
But the berry picks are still going on, and former CSA people get first dibs on the sign ups. The slots were filled within hours of posting.
(in my berry t-shirt... it's a tradition!)
I ask farmer Beth how it feels to be mostly retired. She laughs: all it means is that we didn't hire any help this year. It's all on us.We were picking asparagus last week and felt completely depleted after.
Our berry pick is small. We just don't need more fruit right now.
We drive back, Ed sleeps. He'd already played pickle ball early in the morning. Up before sunrise, he tells me. Just like me!
He wakes up as I pull into Sally's driveway. Shhhh! -- I warn him. Millie is in her crate, sleeping. I've been gone two hours. I could use one and a half more to do my planting. But I need Ed's help to lift a boulder I'm "borrowing" from the construction dump next door. I thought it would make a good hose guide for the garden. I hired someone from the community to water the plants while I'm away. I dont want her to run the hose over my baby plants! (The boulder turns out to be a poor choice, in that the hose gets stuck in the crevice of the stone as it hits the ground. Still, the hose may get stuck it'll keep my waterer honest!)
Ed returns to the farmette, I go on to plant. And yes, I do make progress. I put in ten little guys. But I run out of soil once again. I count what's left: five plants for the front bed, and three that should go into the fenced area.
It's never ending, really it is. As I stand there wondering if I should water or wait for the rain, a pickup truck rolls by. A young guy opens the window.-- Excuse me? -- he says. I look at him questioningly. I just wanted to tell you, I love your garden!
Well now, I was touched, really I was. Not because I am in need of compliments, but because this person cared enough to stop, lean out and tell me that he liked my flowers. How totally sweet of him. Such good people there are on this planet!
Okay, back to my Sunday list: to mow the lawn. If in general I hate lawn care, I double hate it when it's not my own and it's poorly maintained. The drought has helped me in that the lawn has hardly budged this spring. It's only my third cutting. One more before I move out!
I feel I owe Millie a big chunk of quality time for all her patient crate rests. I take her to the big dog park.
She likes it, but she is still tentative when dogs come up to her. At doggie daycare, she is all over them. Here, she takes it in, then usually chooses to trot by my side instead of playing with the others.
(the Millie Trot!)
(with an occasional gallop thrown in for good measure)
(...followed by a rest)
I called off Sunday dinner, because there just isn't time for it. I wont even describe the number of leftovers I've used for myself this week. Evening suppers have been following the same pattern: make salad, reheat whatever there is to be reheated from meals past. Frittata slices, bowls of veggie soup, even the occasional frozen pizza slice. Anything that requires no thought and little preparation.
When Millie dozes off for a late afternoon nap, I return to the garden. Five more plants go in. Success! The front yard is just about done. The Big Day will be tomorrow as Bevalli Gardens rips up more sod on the side and the back of the house, Ed will help me dig some holes, and I'll put in the last of the plants -- all thirty-five of them. Ambitious? Well yes, but then this whole project has been insane. Why stop with just the front border?!
Funny I should call tomorrow a Big Day. It is that, but then Tuesday is also a Big Day (a family birthday, the last day of school for the kids, and Millie goes off to trainer Julie's home. And really, Wednesday is a super Big Day: packed or not, I take off for the Big Trip. And Thursday? Very big indeed as I arrive at my destination. I suppose Friday gives me some respite and then I have a string of Big Days, one after the next.
Evening. Ed comes over to learn his jobs at Sally's House when I'm away. He stays for supper -- I assure him I have something for our evening meal. Um, a little something: how about half a slice of leftover frittata? With a salad of course.
with so much love...
