|Photograph by Stan Williams|
I'm not one to force the season. No, I really don't like to wear shorts unless it's June, July or August or I'm on vacation in a tropical locale, sport white pants before Memorial Day or don flip flops to walk anywhere other than on the beach. But thanks to Mother Nature's response to Global Warming, we're experiencing AC weather in NYC, and yes, I'm barefoot and wearing shorts.
The unusually high temperatures has me already thinking about the bounty of summertime -- the array berries that come along in late June and early July, and the home-grown tomatoes that are at their peak in mid August. And of course watermelon -- of which I'm extremely picky. Nothing seems to taste as good as a melon grown in the clay of Arkansas and southern Missouri, and here, I can only find ones that come from Mexico or Texas.
As I was consolidating my vintage treasures over the weekend, I emptied this peck-sized basket that my pal Ruth Handel used to cart home vintage goodies from an estate sale we visited back in January. It reminded me of the summers when I was a kid that we picked most of the vegetables we ate. During summer months, my folks would keep an eye open for the days that local farms opened up to customers who could save a few cents by picking their own produce. We picked everything from green beans and corn to strawberries in the summer months. As autumn approached, we'd visit the peach and apple orchard to fill our baskets with fruit that Mom would put away for winter.
Today, the orchard where we used to pick apples in Independence, Missouri, is about to be cleared for a Quick Trip, and I'll probably use this basket to hold crafting items or organize something or other. In the meantime, I'd better put on my flip flops and get to Whole Foods to pick up something to cook for dinner.
Always Frugal, Always Fabulous,
The Elegant Thrifter