We went to the farm on Sunday and weeded like crazy, which is what is needed after a bunch of rain and hot weather. Whoa. Bob and I stopped dead in our tracks when we saw the mess ahead of us, but when B + B jumped in to weed too, it got done in a matter of, well, 2 hours. Still - NOT BAD considering how much there was to do. We left with about 4 pounds of green beens, probably 25 pounds of cucumbers, 13 green peppers, and way waaaaaay too many yellow summer squash.
So, on Monday I made stuffed green peppers (enough for 4 meals for our family - one of which we ate that night and the other three I froze). I also canned 8 jars of bread and butter pickles. This is my first foray into pickling cucumbers and the reviews are fairly good. They could be crispier, we have concluded. I also pureed a bunch of cucumbers, added water and lime juice, and froze this concoction for a Cucumber Aqua Fresca, which could be drunk as is, or added with gin/vodka to make a Cucumber Martini. I'm not yet sold on this little number, but I'm going to a pool party at a friend's house next week, so we'll try it out there.
Today I need to track down some dill heads so I can make dilly beans. I also have to address the 25 or so pounds of cherries we picked in Door County. Oh, and more pickles -- this time, dill spears. My dad came over yesterday to take some of our garden booty, and I gave him all of the yellow squash. I believe he was taking most of that to St. Vincent's food pantry, which is where he volunteers on Tuesdays. I'm hoping others found ways to use the squash that I just couldn't.
In the middle of this food fun, we met friends at Tenney Beach yesterday, which was the perfect way to spend a hot afternoon. The kids played (and didn't complain too much) and we moms chatted. Nice and easy and relaxing, and we even squeezed in some very intellectual discussion about the mid-east conflict. Or maybe it was about reality tv shows. Well, either way, I was happy.
After Tenney, we came home to quickly regroup, and we headed back out to One's football practice, which is this week from 4 - 6 pm at West High. This football clinic is for kids in 4 - 8th grade, and they start the practice with the high schoolers. So, I sat and watched my earnest, serious first born run sprints, do stretches, and go through many, many football conditioning exercises. And my heart broke a little bit. It feels so serious all of a sudden, this sports life of his. I waved to him a couple of times (ok, I even blew him a kiss) and he didn't respond. I was torn between being so proud and happy for him and feeling sadness that his innocent little life is gone. I'm not articulating this well. Since I started this paragraph, I have processed this with my boy, and he thinks it's totally cool. So, perhaps my maternal worry is unnecessary.
In other news, I had a dream last night that I was writing a letter to Bob Dylan, who was, of course, a personal friend. I was a bit intimidated.
Anyway, we are off to do some errands. A dear old friend (classmate of One) is joining us, so the energy level is HIGH. I need to command some authority here.
No comments:
Post a Comment