Harvest time. Tim warned me the other night that it was getting to be that time. Pears, plums, tomatoes, peppers, then a little later grapes and apples. Do I know what I'm going to with the produce, where should he put it, and when should he start picking?
Secretly, I wish it would all go away. I'm tired. Worn out. Burned out. I've been at this for years. Every summer. In the hot kitchen, made all the hotter because usually two burners on the stove are going, peeling, cutting, filling, cooking, cleaning, back feeling like it's breaking. I've done my share. I've lived simply, worked with our earth, grown and produced much of our food. I'm ready for my little cottage by the ocean with fireplace and bookcase and comfy over-stuffed chair.
But.... then I remember how it feels to look in my cupboard and see it full of food we have produced. From little, tiny seeds to jars full of healthy, life-giving food. How it feels to grab a jar from the shelf, pop open the lid and smell the smell of our hard work and reward. And how I enjoy secretly laughing at the people running to the store in that God awful traffic just to pick up something. I've already got it. All natural. Nothing toxic. Didn't get shipped thousands of miles. Didn't cause any pollution. And how I was blessed with the opportunity of getting my hands dirty, seeing dirt under my nails, smelling that sensual, earthy smell on my hands. How I had that time in the morning while weeding to talk out loud to God with no-one listening. Except the neighbor having his early morning cigarette who probably already thinks I'm a total whack job. It's is absolutely amazing how many problems you can solve while getting your hands dirty.
So. I will find some energy that's been hiding away and tackle the harvest. My kitchen will be the heart beat of my home. The floor will be dirty and sticky. I will be hot and sweaty and achy and tired (I'm that anyway). I will stir prayers into my preserved food. I will watch my cupboards fill up with food. It will mark the end of the old year. And I will look forward to my time of rest.