It’s Sunday and I might get to it this afternoon. The row of canning jars lined up on my counter top, bags of frozen strawberries preserved in the freezer
It’s Sunday so it’s possible, if the rain keeps falling, hiding the blue sky that means we should go out and work.
Ride my horse.
Chase some cows.
Cut some weeds.
Cut some wildflowers.
Cut some rhubarb…
Because in this weather where the planting was done late and the vegetable seeds are working to break through the ground, the presence and plethora of the ever hearty rhubarb plant sitting out there in the dirt or hiding under the berry bushes makes me feel guilty for failing to reap the benefits.
Rhubarb should be appreciated, made into something, tasted, tested and shared. And because I haven’t had a moment to pick and put some sugar on it, I wrote about it.
So I think I’ll make time for the jelly today. I owe it to the plant and my Pops who keeps reminding me, there’s rhubarb growing out back…