It's Friday and we're closing in on the last weekend in June. School's out and summer feels like it can finally begin. So what if I spent the entire month indoors, planted on a rickety old recliner long shredded by the cats. That's about to change and soon. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Soon, it will be better and I will be back outside doing what I do even if I'm shuffling along with a walker. So what. I don't care as long as I can be out in the fresh air again.The garden, largely neglected since mid-May has graciously granted us another grudge-free season. Those little plant starts I buried hastily the day before my surgery provided us with beautiful greens at dinner last night. Sure, the asparagus bolted early and the strawberries are so weedy we can't see the fruit, but so what. There is chard, kale and peas and it's all ready to eat right now. And that silly impulse buy at Wegmans? That hanging basket with the spindly cherry tomato plant in it? Well it's full and lush, and loaded with fruit which has just started to ripen. What about the climbing rose that has taken up residence in the pot along with the tomatoes you say? To that I say so what.
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