It was a big day for spending some time in the great outdoors on Saturday. First, I put in 5 hours at Lindentree Farm, the community-supported agriculture farm in Lincoln to which we belong. I picked garlic scapes (given the way my hands smell today, there is no danger of me being attacked by vampires for awhile), weeded edimame and leeks, and got to plow the potato field with a "wheel hoe," which is exactly what it sounds like — a plow-like device with a bicycle wheel on the front. Besides making me feel, briefly, like a real man, it was fun cracking wise jokes such as "Is that a pwetend hoe? No, it’s a wheel hoe" and, of course, making the obligatory "hoe"/"ho" jokes with the hippie interns. Today, well, I have blisters on my hand and I’m stiff, but I do enjoy the benefits of being part of a CSA — lots of great, fresh, organic fruits and vegetables every week. We only have to do 3 more hours this summer (in addition to the picking we do on our bi-weekly pickups, which is minimal).
Later, we went to a BBQ near our new neighborhood in W. Newton. Lots of families with kids Jacob’s age; the lowlight was Jacob playing Ryan Thompson to my friend Rick’s Bryce Florie, smacking a wiffle-ball line-drive that got Rick squarely in the left eye. His glasses flew off, he flew back and Rick likely has a shiner today.
Germans have great compound words — I wonder if they have one that could possibly capture the fear I felt that my friend was blinded, the shame I felt that my son did it, and the pride I felt that my 3 year-old son can smack a ball that hard?
