I never wanted to be a farmer

In CategoryCooking, Home Schooling, Navel Gazing

In fact, I don’t really like nature at all. The feeling must be mutual, because everytime I step foot outside, veritable LEGIONS of bugs descend on me to suck my blood and buzz in my ears while the sun glares at me and gives me a blinding headache. In general, the whole Outdoors thing is entirely over-rated.

So when the kids and my husband decided to have a garden this year, I didn’t really realize that it would mean dirt-encrusted offerings would appear on the kitchen counter every so often.

In fact, I actually had the poor judgement to encourage this garden idea, because like a sucker idiot good home school mom, I cannot bring myself to turn down anything educational. For some stupid reason, I actually thought this could be one of those projects where I didn’t have to do anything, since the other adult that lives here could handle the whole thing while I relaxed in air-conditioned peace and quiet.

Stop laughing.

I mean it.

In addition to the very small garden, all of our trees are bearing fruit. We have lived in this house for three years, and this tree has never done anything worth noting. But all of a sudden, we have this:

And this:

And this:

Plums. Thousands and thousands of wild red plums.

Jim picked a bunch and left them on the counter, saying, “hey, we should do something with these.”

I don’t know who these “we” people are, but the rest of those bitches aren’t pulling their weight.