Last week, I wasn't feeling my best. I could have stayed in bed, easily. Instead, I carried on and made great gains, in regard to my outside chores. More rain came and handed me this week's schedule and I threw up my hands.
The north end of the garden at the homestead is water logged again; a portion of the mid-spring planting of loose-leaf lettuce was almost too pooped to pop up without my assistance, after the storm. I tiptoed into the garden, my shoes loaded with mud and snipped off a healthy helping of lettuce and placed it into my metal dishpan.
I gathered up some round red radishes, pulled up a few green onions, and plucked one sweet belle pepper from a plant--what could I say, more than, clear the way, I have salad fixings! I gave the fresh produce my fullest attention, during the most crucial stage.
After my first harvest was sweaky clean, I dropped the bright green leaves into a bowl of very cold water, just to relieve the stress and add some crispness. I drained them and grabbed my cut-glass salad bowl from the dish cupboard.
By then, I was humming "The Star Spangled Banner" because; my buddy said that a lady featured on CNN news butchered Francis Scott Key 's finest work. "A disgrace," Paul Baby complained.
I can't sing well and never did -- my vocal attempt sound sort of like a lonely coyote's love call after a long harsh winter. My humming may not set me up for "America's Got Talent" audition, but, it sounds darn good to me. I call on my music often. It helps me perform all my duties and makes the tasks move along smoothly.
I chopped off a few notes that the singer thought that the song needed, looked toward heaven and apologized to Francis, on behalf of the singer, and then belt out the original version of our song. I doubt that Francis applauded my effort.
The TV above the refrigerator was on, as well. Dr. Phil was trying to straighten out some fellow's life, a real head shaker. With so much going on, how could I toss a perfect salad and have time to help out the good doctor, to a degree? He was staring directly into my eyes and I forgot, for the moment, how to move forward.
This chef in charge of the kitchen of the little blue house at the end of the road turned big Phil off. I added wedges of delicious gourmet tomatoes, bits of bacon and pitched some herbs into the mix.
A bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch found its way to the spread on the dinner table. I sit down, heaped my bowl high and headed for the ranch. Garden salad hadn't tasted that good to me since childhood
I do not, even by request, wilt lettuce and for good reason that dates back to my favorite cook wore an apron. A fly fell from the sticker, landed in her china bowl, and became too limp to live. I found it in my serving and; you know the rest.
After Paul emptied his bowl, he enjoyed the salad all evening: the heat of the radishes and the slightly pungent green onions. No mentioned of bad manners. He did say the salad was good food!
Last week, a longtime family friend, James Nairn lost a courageous battle against cancer. I send my condolence to the love of his life, Sara, their daughters, Amanda Adkins and Theresa Bemis- sister, Jean Howard, brother, David and extended families. I will remember Jim well.
This month, Donald Rogers and Phyllis Kunkle Writtenhouse went home to be with the Lord. Both lived on Elm Street when I was a kid, two houses apart. They were good neighbors and good kids that were very nice people to know. I wish for their peaceful rest. I send my condolences to their families, as well.
I can be reached at 446-4852 or drop me a line to 613 North Elm St., Brazil, IN., 47834 or by email at email@example.com.