Haven't had much energy the last couple of nights to catch up on the blog...
But it's been a nice week of new experiences. Tuesday turned out to be the Ultimate Retreat Day. Very simple recipe: alone in a friend's elegant house full of soothing eye-space, big windows; the world's most comfortably supportive chaise longue; a sturdy carry-bag full of fat library books; and a gracious, warm, drowsy schnauzer. And NO ELECTRONICS. No screens. None. The schnauzer and I read, and slept, and slept, and read, and had one hurried 8 block walk between rain squalls. Finished the fat library books. The dog may have been reading while I was asleep. We took turns. He was certainly sleeping while I was reading. Absolute bliss and relaxation.
Wednesday for a complete change of pace, the Rambler became a Rhubarb Rescuer, equipped with large plastic bags and a little note of two addresses where there was rhubarb that the owners didn't want or need. The first address there was a small patch of rather scrawny but brilliant ruby rhubarb. That didn't take long. The second address there was a rhubarb patch the length of the garage, and anywhere between 20 and 50 years old. Picked more rhubarb than I could comfortably carry, and that was ONE PLANT...so I conferred with the owner for follow-up visits.
Second part of the day was to take all 35 pounds of rhubarb to the processors, a quartet of women at work in a community-league kitchen, making exotic amazing jelly out of rhubarb juice. The batch of the moment included juice, sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest, hot sauce--and I arrived just as they were about to add the GIN.
So I had some exercise outdoors and I engaged with six total strangers, including the grandmother of triplets (because Moms'n'Tots were playing in the hall next to the Rhubarb Kitchen) -- NINE if you count the triplets -- not counting the hard-hatted workmen from Prairie City Power who came down the lane by the rhubarb patch to clear brush from around the power lines. We exchanged pleasantries and rhubarb recipes and they looked muscular at me and made their bucket-hoist go up and down, you know, the typical exchange between the sexes. All very amiable. Part of the campaign Not to Become a Recluse now that I've retired.
And I have several pounds of lovely prime rhubarb to process for myself. But I think I'll just drink the gin on the side....
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3 comments:
Thirty five lbs. of rhubard! Ahhh....I LOVE rhubarb and my daughter's former large patch is no longer available, since they live here instead of there. Bought a little at the store today. Not the same, is it? And the house, books and dog sound lovely.
I may not have made it clear, Dorcas, that the dog generously shared the chaise longue with me -- he was very WARM and comfortable!
Okay, I need that recipe for rhubarb jelly.
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