blueberries and wax beans

Oh My God! So many beans, so much to harvest!

I slept latish and waked reluctantly. Ray was up working somewhere else in the house. A half hour on the computer did not completely rouse me. But it was too light and getting hot fast. Ray had all the windows open and it was coolish, although damp. The thermometer said 69 out, definitely cooler than inside.

I sliced bread for toast, put peach and blueberries in yogurt--yum! Such a treat, with a little cinnamon. That wakes me up happy. A little peanut butter on the toast. I try the sudoku. I am in the "Tough Puzzles" section of a book Elisa gave me for Christmas a year and a half ago. Ray and I take turns, but we can't get it. Must get outside before it is hot.

The chickens explore the back!

I put on my shoes and my hat, an old baseball-type hat. Outside it is still cool and damp. The ground is wet, the sun is not hitting much of the yard yet. I open the door to the chicken coop and walk in, stooped over. There is not much room. There are the nesting boxes and the feeder and the water and the perch. I have to get through to the little door and open for them. They always jostle and try to get away from me, although there is nowhere to go. I would think they would like me, I bring them food--and freedom. I have closed the door behind me so they won't escape that way. Because it is open on two sides, only covered by chicken wire, I don't feel claustrophobic. I am happy to get the little door open and they find it and make their way into the run. I back out and close the big door again. They seem fine--no obvious problems that I can detect in my quick survey. I walk around to the other coop, waving my hands in front of me to keep any spiderwebs from hitting me in the face. The three big black hens are walking back and forth in the long coop, waiting for me to open their door. When I do, they rush out into the run and both groups meet and jockey--who will go where? There is some squawking and jumping, but no feathers fly today. I see a dirty egg on the floor of the big coop. Hmm. I wonder why it was not laid in the nest box. It is probably one of the black hens. Perhaps she was intimidated by Gladys.

They run up to me when I find them. 

I go into the garden to check things out. There is a little cluster of white eggs on the leaf of one of the unproducing broccoli plants. I think about crushing it, but something makes me think it might be something good. There is a little yellow pepper on one of those plants. The asparagus is growing tall since we have stopped cutting it. Grow strong for next year! I pull a weed here and there. I admire the green tomatoes and pick some suckers off the plants. The beets and onions look good. The lettuce is bolting. I cut two heads and put them in the basket. There are some cucumbers and zucchini that can grow a little bigger, I gleefully anticipate. The beans--oh, no, there are more green beans to pick. I take myself to task. It's good to have beans to pick, we like fresh home-grown organic green beans. They hide behind the leaves, they disguise themselves as stalks. There are still new flowers and baby beans coming along. The chickens have reached into the garden from the run and destroyed several of the cucumber plants. I guess I knew that would happen, but I somehow hoped it wouldn't, ever the optimist. Fortunately, we planted a lot and some are still doing okay. They have killed a couple pumpkins, too, but there are a couple more crawling around under the peach tree. Two peanuts are up-there should be many more, but we will see.

Ray is ready and we head out for our walk while it's still cool and damp. Cameron runs around us, disappearing and coming back. We don't see any deer this morning, although we often do.

After a good walk (20 minutes?), Ray goes in to get ready for work and I go back to picking beans. In the other garden, the yellow beans are going crazy. I love yellow beans, ever since I was a child. I know they taste the same, but their color makes me smile. They are easier to find and pick than the green ones, that's one thing. These are very prolific and I leave plenty to get a little bigger. I may have 2 pounds of beans today. I start on the blueberries. They are amazing! Beautiful, big blueberries. I have six bushes, two each of three kinds. One is the earliest, and maybe most prolific. I probably have a note somewhere about what variety it is. I taste a few, but I am greedy and want to gather as many as I can. They are everywhere. I try to be systematic, going up and down the bush in some order, but then I see one I had missed and have to go back and check it. I am very careful, picking only the ripest, the ones that come off easily with a gentle tug. In every clump, there are many light green small hard berries and one or more starting to get red and purple and blue. The darkest are the best, but I don't just judge by color. It's more about the feel. The ripe ones come off easily and are very soft--and they have the sweetest, best flavor. Sometimes some fall through the bush and I pick them up off the ground. I hate to lose a single one.

I am so grateful to be able to pick in the shade, just for an hour or so, enjoying it. I think of the people who must pick for a living, all day in the hot sun. It would not be fun. I might not even want to eat any after that.

Ray is long gone and I am still picking. I haven't even looked at the three bushes furthest from the house today. They are in the sun now. Perhaps I will get to them this evening.

I say goodbye to the chickens and go inside with my bounty. Cameron is already inside, a sure sign of a hot day. I dump it all into the sink and turn the water on. Another blessing--water to waste, as much as I want. Two scrawny heads of bolted lettuce, an oregano stem I grabbed, and so many beans and berries. I even picked a few blackberries, but they are definitely getting away from me.

I have a conversation with myself as Gollum.
"You could invite some people to come and pick if they want. You have plenty."
"No, no, they're mine! I need them all."
"You have two quarts in the freezer and a bowl on the counter. You can have berries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and still there will be more to pick--they will fall on the ground and rot!"

I could make jelly. I could take the fence away and let the deer and other critters come in.
Although, probably Cameron would not allow them to do that. Good idea, I will tell people they can come and pick if they want to.

I cooked some lentils and potatoes for tonight's dinner. I wanted to stop and rest, but I wanted the cooking to be done before it got any hotter. The windows and shades were closed, but the air was not running yet. I wanted to take my bath before it was too hot, so I could air out the bathroom and close it up.

I washed each bean lovingly. I don't know how anyone could clean them without using their hands on every individual bean, removing dead flowers and bits of spiderweb. I rinsed the blueberries and blackberries and looked them over too. My back did not like standing at the sink for that time. I thought again of the people who do physical labor for 8 or more hours every day. How do they stand it? Or are they stronger than I am? Are they laughing and singing in the hot sun or the cold factory?