Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Planting Time


I lean against the cool side of the adobe gateway; cross my ankles and arms. 

"Think I'll go back to holding up this wall."

"Well, it pays good," opines the old rancher.

"If you work for the gubmint."

The rancher in cowboy boots and I in bib overalls are waiting for a nursery truck to finish dis-gorging its plants. And move the heck out of the way.

The truck driver offers to guide me through a three-point turn (that being, what?!... in a tight space.)

"Nuh unh. Thanks for the offer, but I'm a female not stoopid about my backing-up skills." 

So we wait and watch the show. Long line of people stand with their treasures, pay and leave.

Interesting: Folks with still lots of "discretionary" moolah are buying numerous hanging baskets of petunias at $35 a pop.... 

When a 6-pack of petunia plants would have done a comparable display pretty soon, set in last year's pot, for five bucks.

Do the math; have we lost our minds?

I've been reading and thinking about Venezuela, the empty store shelves, dumpster-diving for edible garbage, and monster inflation. If you can find anything.

Doesn't take long for hungry to morph to ugly. We don't seem to "get it" yet, but I guess we will.

Am remembering my Southern grandmama answering knocks at the back door of men out of work/looking for work, lean and hungry.

A fellow would ask if there were a chore he might do?  Splitting firewood, maybe?

Meaning: I'm near starving, ma'am, but no freeloader. Will you feed me from your good cooking and garden?

And she did, bringing a plate heaped with food to the back stoop, unlatching the screen door, and wishing him better days, and home with his family.

Of course, that was the Great Depression, long time ago.

Meanwhile, standing in the high noon sun, the rancher and I load up our "plunder" and head out. Free at last!

By the time I get home, I'll be pulling on a sweater for the sudden temperature drop of an afternoon storm in the Rockies. We get big dark cumulus, showers and down-shrieks of lightning. Wild iris are in bloom.

But for now I've found some Brandwines and am happy. 

"Heirloom" tomatoes... Not something you'd include in your Will, but yummy-flavored; seed saved from the best plants each year, and for generations.

No en-venomed "love-apple" from the artifice of biotech... Just hearty, nourishing taste and seed to save for generations to come.

Eat your heart out, Monsanto.


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