A Sunday morning farmer's breakfast:1. Sausage from the farmer down the road (Thunderhill Farm).
2. Eggs from our hens, sunnyside up.
3. Toast from the local bakery that uses local organic grains (Wild Hive Bakery).
4. Fresh tomatoes & scallions.
I walked past the summer squash row on my way to water the greenhouse, and I couldn't help but notice those poor zucchini that will be too big to be edible by tomorrow. So I picked 116 of them. Just the largest, the ones that would pass us by. I can't stand to see good food wasted.
By 9am I was sweating out of every pore of my body. I was haunted by this feverish dream I had last night, where Farmer Dave & I were walking across the melon field, and every single melon had been cracked in half & eaten by birds. Not a single one, even a tiny one or a flower, was left for us to harvest. I was so sad I woke myself up crying.So of course I had to go out and remind myself that it was just a dream-- a sigh of relief as I looked over the hundreds of intact green cannonballs lying out there in the sun. I knocked on one close by, and it made the kind of sound a ripe watermelon makes...
So I took a chance... as soon as I got the knife in, the thing popped open, a good sign.
But alas, the seeds are still yellow... a hint of sweetness, but nothing like a melon should be.
I will wait a little longer, and trust the birds to share.
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