Contrary to all forecasts, we had a spectacular sunny weekend, and I managed to get some trim painted as well as cleaning up the garden. Even Miss Nell enjoyed being out in the sunshine, although she continues to find it unfair that she has to be tied up while the boys romp. She continues well behaved, although the boys—predictably—are acting out a bit. Max, the German Shepherd, came over a few minutes ago and insisted on sitting in the armchair with me. So I am perched on the edge, attempting my first blog-by-email.
It is not typical of me to find beauty in death and decay, but tomatoes in every shade of red, orange, yellow and green were even more lovely for having been frozen into translucence. Add clearest yellow leaves drifting down from the sugarbush, and the day could only be seen as pure celebration of the moment.
I’m not big on existential nothingness, either, but attempts to pull mint out of the garden come as close to futility as anything I know. If I were of a cynical turn of mind, Toby’s helpful actions in fetching back green tomatoes that I threw out of the vegetable plot would be symbolic. For me, Toby is just goofy, another instance of pure joy.
Don’t even think of lecturing me about throwing out green tomatoes. Have you any idea how many I have in the kitchen? I also have about 8 pounds of carrots and 12 pounds of turnips and a surprising quantity of daikon, not to mention their nifty little seed pods. I am so going to be overrun by daikon next summer. Worse things have happened. Did I mention the mint?
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