We’ve had a little rain.  I almost feel bad, what with the whole country either burning or wilting to dust.  The lime tree is unrepentant, putting heat, humidity and new water to use adding tender purple leaves.Just now skipping a day’s trip to the garden is a huge mistake.  Despite hauling so very much produce to the food bank drop off and making enough pickles to supply Katz’s (for a slow day), I still find myself with way too many cucumbers and tomatoes.  

I imagine that people see me biking home from the garden and hide lest I offer them some of my haul.  They have to hide.  If I catch them and release the bungee net and pull back the towel to reveal my vegetal goods, their frugality, appetite and lust for beauty take hold.  The game is over!  The produce is theirs and I am five pounds lighter!  But they hide.

I’ve dropped off produce at the firehouse a couple of times, but the men who fight flames are now afraid to sit outside.  People who used to regularly walk by the garden take a different route when they see me lifting cucumber vines (weight is a better indicator of fruit than eye).  I see neighbors’ garage doors descending as a approach.  Coincidence?  I think not.  Gazpacho tonight should help.

The drop in temperature carried me to the hifi to turn it on for the first this summer.  Big Harp’s sounds fill me with joy.

The tiny Bose speaker we use while the hifi vacations for the summer does little more than mask the ringing in my ears (tinnitus, yes sir-ee).  The hifi, on the other hand (or in a different solar system, really), fills the room, nearly the whole floor, with vitality.  Yummy six times over.  Welcome back, son (my hifi is a dude and I have adopted him)!

So that’s that.  For today.  Be well, friends!





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