Tonight my daughter fixed just-picked corn, green beans, new potatoes and chicken for dinner. S had made a truly incredible rhubarb pie with rhubarb stalks we had frozen last year. These are my favorite suppers of the year--they remind me so much of the home garden suppers we had in the late 1940s. In what now seems like Old-Time America.
My father puts on old clothes to dig in our garden after work. He wears an old white shirt with the collar cut off, the collarband on. He rolls up the sleeves. He has a strong body and beautiful strong arms.
He never whined about working, or acted lazy in any way. He could fix anything, and did. Very lucky in fathers, I was, we--all of us brothers and sisters--were.