Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
What a delicious day at (and off) the farm.
Perfect temperature. It might have hit 82, the sun was shining in the big, bright blue sky. An occasional cool breeze fluttered among the corn stalks where I harvested ear after ear of corn. The rows of corn cocooned me and I was very glad I was alone and not sharing space with snakes and bugs. Though I did nervously check from time to time. Our co-volunteer offered up her Smart Car as pack mule and we packed the trunk with three hundred ears.
While picking I noticed how absolutely satisfied I felt. The crack of the corn as I broke it from the stalk. It's sweet, earthy scent, released all around me while I was hiding in the Iowa jungle. All of this, and knowing that I was picking food to feed the body fed my soul. I'm guessing this is why one would "retire" by working ten and twelve hour days in all sorts of weather and back-twanging work.
For dinner we dined on corn just a few hours off the stalk, cantaloupe still warm from the sun, fresh tomatoes and peach basil lemonade. (eight fresh basil leaves, three cups of lemonade, two TBSP of peach jam and two handfuls of ice, blended.)