I was on lunch duty today so I avoided garden work. I decided to cook pork sausage along with a ratatouille and mashed potatoes. The family cleaned their plates so I think it was successful.
I dug up and washed a large number of beetroot and got them ready for cooking. The kitchen always looks as if a massacre has taken place when I'm doing beets. The juice splatters all over the place. I think I did about 10 pounds and they are now in the deep freeze to be enjoyed by everyone else but me. Bill brought in buckets of tomatoes and I lay them out on shelving to ripen in the basement. I suppose this is a labour of love because I never eat anything I put into the freezer because of being away in the winter.
I drove to visit Cathy at the other end of the farm. It's always nerve wracking leaving the farm and entering Highway 37, which is a busy main route. I always think I've pulled out safely but then trucks come along so quickly they are up my backside before I know it. I can't speed up because I have to turn onto another road just 200 metres from the farm so it's really scary at times. There's an 80kph sign outside the farm, as vehicles approach the overpass but, if they are going straight over they don't slow down. I've written to the Minister of Highways but all I got was a polite reply and no action.
Cathy's recovering from major surgery and the medication is causing all her finger and toenails to fall out. She's stuck them with crazy glue so that she doesn't get them ripped out if she accidentally knocks them against something. She said her bones ache, she can't walk well and has no immunity. I said at 60 years of age it may be worthwhile but, at my ripe age I'd tell the medical people no thank you.
