Saturday, July 10, 2010

Shelling Peas

We took a trip to the Farmers' Market this morning. The main aim was to buy a lemon verbena plant since my very old one had finally succumbed to nonexistence. I could not imagine a year without it's intoxicating fragrance in my herb garden. It was worth the visit to my garden just to brush against the lemon verbena. The word heady comes to mind, yes, it made me heady.

But while at the market the variety of the local farmers produce tempted us and gave us an idea for the evening's supper, corn, tomatoes, okra, field peas and cantaloupe. I filled my carry along basket and arms with all I could carry, then I filled my husband and Charlotte's arms. We left "rich" indeed.

We then came home and shelled purple-hulled peas on the back porch.

The tomatoes are roasting slowly in a 200 degree oven, the corn is shucked ready for boiling, the okra is washed and waiting for frying, the peas are stewing, and the focaccia bread is rising

let's talk Shakespeare

And Shakespeare? He, indeed, is not to be classed, and timed, and treated as one amongst others,—he, who might well be the daily bread of th...