I live for days off. That’s another reason, one of many, why I must live in Europe one day: thirty-four hour weeks and the entire month of August off. My kind of work schedule. Alas, today was not a day off, and it seemed unusually long because the last two Mondays I’ve only worked half a day. I watered the onions and strawberries, pulled up the broccoli stumps, harvested and cleaned all of the diakon, and packed peaches.
I collected apples—the ones that have fallen—for the first time today, too. The season, it appears, will be early and small. There aren’t as many apples on the trees as there have been in past years. I have to say, I'm not at all opposed to an early, small season, though that is perhaps selfish of me.
As I crawled under the trees today picking up the dropped apples while the sun reached its zenith overhead, the crickets parting before me like a humming black sea, the hot air smelled like applesauce.
Those dreaded wasps must not be circling there like they are around my fig tree. It sounds so interesting to me, all that you are doing. I look forward to your blog daily.
ReplyDeleteSo in Europe, if you get the entire Aug month off...what does that even mean? How does life go on? Do shops close....hmmmm this is interesting.
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