The temperature in Denver was a comfortable high of 88 degrees yesterday, a delightful change from the 108 that some people were reporting earlier in the week. Bill and I were beginning to think we needed to take a trip to AZ to cool down.
Darn it. Now I sound like everyone else. I have never heard such complaining in my life. Likely most of the complaints came from our numerous newly-transferred-from-elsewhere residents. If you like milder temperatures, just why did you feel the need to move here from southern California? And while you’re at it, use your blinkers and get off my lawn.
I may not be good at a lot that is involved in growing old, but I’m perfecting the art of crabbiness.
At any rate, the cooler temperatures brought people out of their air conditioned homes and into garden centers and farmers’ markets. My favorite spot combines the two, offering both fresh mostly-locally-grown produce and a garden center. It’s located about a 15 minute drive from my front door, in a not-great but not-awful part of town. You tell me: when I was driving home with my produce, I passed five police cars all parked with their lights flashing. While I tried not to be a Looky-Loo, I couldn’t help but notice that they were surrounding a beat-up car that resembled a 1975 Ford Escort. Something told me that the driver of the vehicle had not simply run a red light.
Anyway, the garden center/produce market was packed with shoppers. It seemed like most of them were buying garden plants. That might be because it’s still a bit early for a lot of the produce. Still, they had what I was looking for – pickling cucumbers. It’s about that time again folks. Homemade dill pickles…..
The bulk of our grandchildren love dill pickles. In fact the other night when Court and his family came for dinner, after dinner and the dessert of pineapple upside down cake, the kids went to the fridge and took out jars of pickles and green olives and commenced eating them. The smell of pineapples and whipped cream was still on their breath. Not for long, as you can imagine.
There’s nothing on earth tastier than a delicious homegrown tomato. Bill loves to describe the tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches on white bread that he used to eat as a boy. The problem is, while it’s true there’s nothing more delicious than a good tomato, conversely there’s nothing with less flavor than a rock-hard, barely red, conventionally-grown tomato. While it’s a bit early for tomatoes, the market offered options that looked quite good. Whether or not they are remains to be seen…..
I ended up with a watermelon, some tomatoes, a bunch of those yummy big onions, a lemon to cook with my salmon, and some apricots for Bill…..
In another month or so, the good sweet corn will begin landing in the grocery store bins, the cantalopes from the eastern plains with their sweet floral fragrance will call my name, and my own tomatoes will begin ripening.
And in a month from then, the smell of roasting green chilies will fill the air.
I don’t want to get too excited, because all of that means that summer will be coming to an end. But my mother always dejectedly told her children every July 4, “Well, summer’s half over.”
But I’m not going to think about that. I’m going to concentrate on this…..
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