This is fancy doo dah McDonald rhubarb. It is red and pretty and tough and stringy. It is expensive too or I would not bother with it. |
It usually takes me at least two early morning sessions to write the Farm Side....sometimes three. I must research farm topics, many of which I know nothing about. I hate to get things wrong, so sometimes I read five or six articles on some subject, which might only figure in one sentence, and not a particularly important one at that.
This is my grandpa's rhubarb, handed down over who knows how many generations... It is tender and juicy and delicious. I have moved my plants, lo these many times.... |
At least I almost always have some idea, each week after Wednesday noon deadline, of what I will write about the next week. I usually start on Monday morning....been doing it for over 19 years, but I guess I must be opinionated or something....
This week I had nuttin. Not a clue or a glimmer. I considered writing about the recent disastrous blizzard, which laid low the winter wheat crop and killed thousands of cows on the Great Plains. I have seen so many heart breaking photos of that nightmare.
However, I didn't want to write about misery. There is so darned much of it around these days.
So I sat down to a sinful breakfast of rhubarb crisp I made this weekend and stared at a blank Google Doc.
Aha. Rhubarb crisp as health food. I was off. Finished in under an hour.
Sometimes it's fun. Try Googling the Rhubarb Triangle. I was imagining vanishing desserts, disappearing like ships in the one in Bermuda, but the actual story is much different. Let's just say I picked mine in the rain, but not by candle light.
2 comments:
Thanks for the smiles . . and always those lines that finish like poetry.
Cathy, thank YOU for reading and for being such a good friend!
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