summer Friday thoughts:
Today I will package tomatoes, preparing them for customers who purchase them in 1.5 pound increments. Bagged into brown paper, soon to be off to various places in Central Kentucky and Cincinnati. I’ll think of my dad, who loves tomatoes. I purchased and planted tomato plants as his Father’s Day gift this year, while visiting family in Oklahoma. I’ll think of my grandparents, who planted a big garden each spring when they lived in the country, their land backing up to the Osage hills. I’ll think of my great grandma, and her summertime visits when I was a child.
Wednesday, I packaged basil. Wrapped up to be sent to a local grocery store. Labels printed on the front, letting the world know this herb is organic and where it’s grown. My Louisville kids’ dog (my grand dog) is named Basil, so of course I thought of her while this work occurred.
At some point this afternoon, two guys will bring in freshly cut flowers. I’ll note their beauty and recall my hope to get to know flowers in a more intimate way. I love photographing them and am antsy to learn how to arrange flowers artfully. I want to know their names, how they prefer to grow, all the details.
We will listen to music this afternoon, while we do the “pack”. Preparing all the CSA orders for the weekend markets. Depending on who connects to the speaker, it might be classic rock. It could be entirely in Spanish. I recognized Rodrigo Amarante’s voice earlier this week when he came up on the playlist.
My summer work life is entirely different than it has been in the recent past. Generally, July has been work free, but here I am. Working harder than ever and I am embracing it. Surrounded by acres and animals. People who do not tarry, as there is always something to do.
The connection back to something I cannot exactly place is intriguing. This month, I also marked four years living in my home. A constancy amidst change. Living downtown, yet driving country roads to work. Sometimes I gasp at the privilege of it.
Upon a Sunny Day 