Friends, Pickles, and Sunflowers
The call came on Tuesday at noon, sooner than I had expected. Then again had it come later in the week, would I have been any more ready? I don't know. My bushel of pickling cucumbers had been picked and was ready for pick-up. I had already purchased the necessary quantity of sugar, vinegar, and onions earlier and had yet to make the last-minute collections of fresh sweet peppers and dill. For the last two years I had purchased large quantities of dill from Barrie Hill Farms which is conveniently located a few km north of the Harris farm. Unfortunately for me, Barrie Hill Farms was closed until Thursday, by which time I hoped my pickles would be bottled and lined up like soldiers in neat little rows. The children whooped and groaned when I announced pickling. On one hand, it meant less book work for them but on the other, they would be needed to care more for the twins and help with pickling. My eldest daughter rolled her eyes. Did she remember how short-tempered I was last year? I...