Whenever I talk about In Praise of Leftovers, people tell me my face lights up. I was talking to my friend/mentor Steve about it, and told him this seems to be a time of convergence in my life--things are coming together.
Another way of putting it might be that it's harvest time. Driving past miles of cropland in Eastern Washington and harvesting my own little row of carrots reminded me that harvest is WORK, though. Yes, it's nourishing, satisfying, beautiful, but things don't uproot themselves out of ground. And then they need to be washed, sorted, displayed, or cooked. In the case of our carrots, Wyatt did absolutely all the work on one of the really hot days last week. He emerged sweaty, slightly sunburned (any other sunscreen-neglecting parents out there?) and very triumphant, holding a big bowl of knobby carrots and feathery tops.
Wyatt and I were talking about how small and irregular our carrots were (yes, past tense--we ate them in one sitting) because we planted them so close together and didn't thin. I told Wyatt that sometimes I'm disappointed when things aren't perfect--you won't catch these carrots in a professional photo shoot. Wyatt looked up from his work and said, "Mom, nothing's perfect." Amen, Reverend Wyatt. From the mouths of babes.
And here's a photo of the galette I made Lynn. Lynn won a galette in my Can-I-get-20-comments-by-the-end-of-the-day challenge a couple weeks ago. Cutzi, I haven't forgotten about you. Wyatt and I also harvested a giant grocery bag of Swiss chard. I sauteed it up, caramelized some onions, and put it all in a crust topped with Comté cheese. True to her wonderful self, Lynn made a salad to go with it and had lunch for her coworkers at The Institute for Washington's Future. This was another harvest--chard from my garden, made for a friend and reader, shared with people who are doing work I believe in.
And one more harvest. Yancey and I met for lunch downtown after his shift yesterday. We went to Macrina and shared a leisurely meal--talked about his first time administering CPR, the kids, what we want to do next in our lives (tinkering around on an old Volvo figures largely into Yancey's plans). All the years Yancey was trying to get into the fire department, we would say things like, "On your day off, we can have lunch together!" It finally happened. Yancey had this beautiful cheese plate, I had some crostini with cherries and Manchego, and we toasted whatever is next.