Tonight, after coming home with bags of incredibly, fresh produce from my CAS, City Fresh I whipped together a Potato and Corn Salad that was delightful. The corn, was the best I’ve had in years. I purposefully picked the long skinny ears, knowing those would be less starchy. (I’m really not into starchy corn. Yuck!) They were just as I remembered from my Dad’s garden: crisp and fresh, they tasted of summer. I smiled thinking of his oft repeated declaration: “You shouldn’t pick the corn until the water’s boiling!” (Something his own Father determined, along with the detailed cooking time of three minutes!) My mind wondered to the corn and watermelon feeds we attended every year with my beloved “home” ward Moses Lake 3rd. I thought of Ken Jorgensen’s prized watermelons. I thought, what a joy it is to enjoy the fruits of a large productive garden within the constraints of a suburb. Eating that dish I realized, “This is why I’m a foody, because sometimes food makes me wax poetic.”
Scotland was right there with me. He couldn’t eat enough of the cherry tomatoes. I couldn’t help but laugh when he bit one just so and the juices and seeds sprayed across the table and all down his shirt. His eyes widened, and looked at me as if to ask: What just happened!
Last week, it was the heirloom tomato that rendered me weak in the knees. Eating it layered with fresh mozzarella and basil with a drizzle each of olive oil and basalmic vinegar I wished: Can it be August forever!
I continue to marvel at how Scotland will scarf down these fresh truly ripe versions of foods he used to pass over. Cantelope is divine when properly ripe, and who can turn down a cherry tomato still warm from the sun?
Today, we were playing outside when he discovered the green cherry tomatoes on one of my plants. He picked a few very green ones and brought them over to show me. I proceeded to try to teach him the importance of choosing the more blushed versions. I lifted him up on the stone wall that surrounds our garden and he plucked a red cherry tomato and popped it in his mouth, he immediately requested another, then another, then another. I love how a garden teaches children to appreciate produce.
The other day we were outside, and instead of weeding, pruning, watering or tidying up I just sat in a chair and took it all in. I was overwhelmed by the beauty that surrounded me. I’ve been told many times since starting the “selling our home” process that we don’t live in a great neighborhood. But sitting there I wondered, How could anyone not want this? A wave of gratitude and pride washed over me as I realized what a beautiful space Tom and I have created, what a beautiful life we’ve been given. It was all so picturesque: a beautiful boy, a beautiful yard, a loving home. Too often I look through magazines and wish I had the homes, yards, clothes I see featured there. But sitting there for those few brief moments, I realized, I do!