food

Monday, August 19:

   There is no rest at this season, and we milked at five a.m., the dark made less dark by low hanging clouds reflecting the glow of mercury lights on the next hill.  It is too warm for long sleeves, and late summer though it is, fireflies flit at the woods’ edge.  The glow worm under the rock pile behind the dairy barn gleams greenly.  Five gallons of milk have to be made into cheese today, and ten gallons of tomatoes, with appropriate proportions of garlic, onion, basil, and oregano, turned into fifteen quarts of sauce put up in glass jars.  The onions are to be stepped over, ending their growing season and starting the necks to drying.  They will sit in the sun for a day or two; on Friday those three beds must be spread with compost, turned, raked, and sown to fall carrots.  The pigs in the big barn receive dividends in the form of windfall peaches, tomato seeds and skins, and shucks and cobs from the first dozen ears of the summer.

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