Fry Day on the Farm

I hope to fry a bit today. My sisters and I used to call this "Fry Day" because we went to Connie's after a week of school and celebrated with fries and ranch dressing. Can't do that these days cuz Connie's keeps closing.

My sources, however, tell me the folks who run the Beach House are taking over Connie's. Yesterday added a bit more support to that tidbit. My friend Mike Rosenberger, who does steam cleaning, was parked in front of Connie's door with his van and with lots of hose strung from the vehicle through the doorway.

So, they're cleaning carpets for something. Maybe we can go have fries there again soon.

Anyway, this could still be a "Fry Day" in that it's supposed to get really warm. That makes me happy, and I'll have to watch how much time I allow my bare skin, especially the arms, get exposed to the sun. I learned a long time ago that those first burns of the year make a person pretty uncomfortable.

This year I'm going to try to avoid my truck driver arms by putting on a sleeveless shirt while working in the garden. Seems like every year I'm too busy to think about cosmetics and before I know it, I'm branded with that telltale line on the biceps. Seems like once you've got it, you can't erase it, even with sleeveless tops later in the spring.

Today is designated as rototilling day and maybe painting day. At least 15 cart trips back and forth to the manure pile have yielded a garden full of rich fertilizer. And, it could be dry enough to get my rototiller to take it all on. We'll see.

In the meantime, I've already enjoyed a yield from my winter planting projects. Yesterday in between loads, I walked into the greenhouse, checked to see if any red stuff was showing beneath the radish leaves, and sure enough, it was. So, I plucked one from the pot, walked to a faucet, washed it over and ate my first bite of garden produce for 2009.

I love radishes cuz they let you love them for hours afterward whenever you burp. And, they're never sour burps; radish burps always have that certain pleasant reminder that you've been eating produce, which, I'm told is supposed to be good for you.

For dinner, I remembered the tasty salad we had on Easter Sunday at Barbara and Laurie's. They put a little hard-boiled egg in it. So, I went to the greenhouse, plucked a handful of baby spinach, a few sprigs of kale and a a dozen or so baby lettuce leaves. I'd have taken another radish, but they're still babes in the pot, and they need time to grow a little larger.

I fried up some honey-flavored bacon pieces, boiled some eggs, stole a little store bought lettuce and mixed it all up in a bowl with Litehouse Honey Mustard lettuce. Better than yum, I'll tell you.

Now, I've got to let some more lettuce and spinach grow before enjoying another salad like that. I'll tell you, though, gardening can be more expensive than we'd like, but the flavor of something fresh from the dirt, something you've grown yourself, something unspoiled by the stuff that keeps produce from spoiling----that flavor is beyond description.

That's why I garden---at least one reason anyway.

I read a column this morning by one of my favorite writers----yes, I'm an Obamican who loves conservative columnist Peggy Noonan. Her observation of what we're going to be facing as Americans because of the economy might sound to some as depressing but to folks like me, it's downright exhilarating to think that we could return to the America that she describes.

So, I'll leave you on this Fry Day, with a scene that only the great Peggy Noonan could paint in words. Here's the link: (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123992073614326997.html)

May the sun shine on all you have planned for this day.