Here I am - the farm hand - in all my sun-hatted, latex-gloved, pea-picking glory.
My mouth isn't usually shaped like that, for the record - I was trying to say something clever, like that I'm peeved about all these peas, and the photographer caught me mid-pun...
It's summer, folks, and the overabundance of harvest season has begun. For you, maybe this means delight at the farmers' market, or a surge in home canning from your garden's cornucopia of veggie-goodness.
For me, this means picking peas. Lots of peas. Or, as the Mexicans would say, muchos pinches chícharos!
After a 14 hour day last Friday, which culminated in 5 hours of all hands on deck to pick every single ripe pea on the field, sugar snap peas (as delicious as they are) have become our collective nemesis.
The peas are nearly done with, but June is just the beginning... I'm bracing myself for the tomato harvest - it's gonna be a doozy.
My mouth isn't usually shaped like that, for the record - I was trying to say something clever, like that I'm peeved about all these peas, and the photographer caught me mid-pun...
It's summer, folks, and the overabundance of harvest season has begun. For you, maybe this means delight at the farmers' market, or a surge in home canning from your garden's cornucopia of veggie-goodness.
For me, this means picking peas. Lots of peas. Or, as the Mexicans would say, muchos pinches chícharos!
After a 14 hour day last Friday, which culminated in 5 hours of all hands on deck to pick every single ripe pea on the field, sugar snap peas (as delicious as they are) have become our collective nemesis.
The peas are nearly done with, but June is just the beginning... I'm bracing myself for the tomato harvest - it's gonna be a doozy.
