A breakfast of peaches canned from D's father's trees, with raspberries picked at Rosby's Farm and frozen: this bowl is the reason we'll be canning again this year, even though it was hot and sweaty and sticky work.
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I pulled these bet basketball from the ground a couple of days before it started snowing again, on my mother's birthday it would have been her ninty-seventh. sportsbook It made me think again how she wasn't interested in gardening, which I believe she associated with loss and failure and sadness, and she put it behind her, with the other parts of her childhood that she didn't march madness want to remember. She appreciated a good homegrown tomato though, if she didn't have to grow it herself.
I didn't do anything to these except clean, chop, and steam. They tasted like the ultimate essence of carrots, sweet and sharp and intense.
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