As my aunt dropped my off at home the night I arrived in Maryland, I looked up at the house and stared. Then laughed. Then stared some more. My mom and step-dad had strings running from the roof to the ground, all across the front of the house, ostensibly for beans, but at this point they were completely bare.
I laugh at how eccentric my parents are. Often, in fact. However, I admire them for how dedicated they are to their lifestyle, and certainly appreciate the bounty it provides. It wouldn't be much of an exaggeration to say that there were no more than a handful of meals we shared this summer that didn't have something from their garden. I would often walk into the kitchen to find my step-dad in the midst of canning tomato sauce or jam that they were putting away for the winter.
We ate tomatoes, figs, apples, strawberries, artichokes and beans (oh the beans!), along with the multitude of herbs they have all around the yard.
If you haven't eaten a fig straight from the tree, you do not know what you're missing in life.
You laugh at us?!? Where's your respect? Glad you enjoy it! (And btw- it's contagious. Evidence: your own posts about farmer's markets and mangoes!)
ReplyDeleteHello, Mabel! (I sense a lurker here.) That, and the long strip of "visitor from Saint Paul, Minnesota" notifications. I guess you MIGHT know someone else there, but just in case. ;-)
Beautiful pictures!