If there is a dominant partner in this love triangle with city and country, it is definitely city. Country struggles for her place, her time, her priority. City is where we make money. And so, and thus...
But spring is here, and so country elbows her way in. The roads are dry, everything is covered (us included) with the red dust kicked up by trucks as they drive by. We're sneezy and watery-eyed, our backs sore from garden prep. The leafy veges are beginning to sprout: this year we're going Asian - gailaan, bak choy, pak choy, Japanese mustards. Some American spinach and beets, as well. Today, we work on a second garden plot, breaking hard red earth again (get out the ibuprofen), a hot sunny spot for tomatoes, eggplant, green beans, zucchini, cucumbers.
With the price of food (and everything else) rising, we're getting a little more serious about growing food. Hoping to do some canning as well, which will be new for me, old hat for J. (his late father's specialty).
I think about finding a way to spend the summer here, give country her due. But I worry, too, about the reality of it--isolation (physical and mental), especially. But maybe it's time to give it a go. Maybe the country wants to be wife this summer, instead of mistress.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment