Oy, I am feeling off tonight. Perhaps it was the summer squash sweet bread, or the late afternoon 1/2 cup of coffee, or the long nap yesterday, or that I've been reading too much of O Magazine, but I feel distinctly bad. I think I'm going to make myself a cup of hot milk and call it a brain dead night.
This morning I woke up early after a macabre and perverted dream about Russian aristocrats and went to garden. I harvested all the beets, as well as kale, chard, cilantro, dill, parsley, sage, lemon verbena, beans, and sungolds. And four Jetstars. All together, it was an impressive take--summer squash and one large zucchini, too.
It was fun putting everything together for Thom; the presentation part. My standards were much lower than Walker Farm's.
Okay. Maybe I have West Nile virus from all the mosquito bites, or cancer from the DEET. Whatever it is, I'm through.
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I am an editor and writer in Northampton, Massachusetts. I write biography and like to report on the food industry. I garden, watch Doctor Who, run, and knit. I am shy, but kind.