By Georgia Osten
Have you ever looked through names, for instance when you’re trying to name a new pet or your next child, or trying to come up with a middle name. I guess in doing this, I accidentally found out what my name means. I guess psychologically, I’ve been trying to live up to that meaning. My name means “farmer.” I do love planting flowers and vegetables and trees – just about anything. From time to time, I’ve run out of space to plant things, but that doesn’t stop me from buying beautiful plants or interesting seeds. We have some property over in the golf course and I’m dying to plant some stuff over there, but my husband says we need to level it first. I know he’s holding out on the leveling to prevent me from bringing home more stuff and prevent him having to dig the holes.
My recent craze is canning stuff from my garden. Cucumbers have begun to show themselves – barely. You really have to search for them, they can hide in the strangest places, only to be found sometimes when they’re way overgrown. My first batch of cucumbers were great and a friend gave me a huge Syrian cucumber just begging to be canned. I find the most tedious part of canning is preparing the jars, all the washing and boiling, and then the “hot bath” process afterwards. I’ve managed to adapt pretty well without real canning equipment. I’ve even preserved some figs from my little trees in the back of the house and occasionally a fig or two from my neighbor’s yard. I’ll think I’ll tackle some okra next.
The family is beginning to get a bit concerned about me.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Don’t hang around too long, I may take a notion to “pickle” something else …
(This article published 7/27/2015)
GO’s Sand Bucket is only one beach bum’s journal of life at the beach, probably something each of you can relate to. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts, visions and/or feelings of just exactly what the beach means to you.
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