So, tomorrow it is back to work. I suppose it’s always too soon.
I dislike yellow-jackets. It’s simple, really. After over 5 hours, by thumb on my right hand is still throbbing. After getting home from a lunch meeting, I proceeded to do some yard-work. I mowed the front yard, and then started trimming some weeds in the thick grassy stuff (I have no idea what it’s called) lining the driveway. Halfway up one side, I felt a brief sting on one of my left fingers, watched something shoot across my field of vision, and then felt a longer lasting (maybe multiple?) sting on my right thumb.
I rushed inside, where my wife suggested an ice pack, followed by the application of some essential oils. After the pain subsided from cut-my-thumb-off-now! to a more manageable level, I decided to go back out, this time with gloves. I returned to the same spot, cut a few more of the misplaced weeds in the grassy, shrubby stuff, then switched to the other side. With an armload of debris, I carried all to the roadside. Then I noticed a yellow-jacket on my left glove. I still don’t know if it was just sitting there, or actively stinging but just not getting through the gloves.
It was a sign that it was time to quit working in the front yard.
A Summer Harvest
Thus I entered the back yard to harvest what had gone unwatched in our vacation absence. I found many, many immense squash, and some more reasonably sized ones. I found two immense zucchini and one teeny one. And I found buckets and buckets of cucumbers. There was also a smattering of tomatoes, one pepper and a tiger melon, as you can see.
Ow, ow, ow. My thumb still hurts!
Julianne, my middle daughter, quickly took one of the cucumbers and ate it whole, as if it were an apple. Well, she ate it with ranch dressing, which she wouldn’t do with an apple, but you get the idea, I hope.
I believe the zucchini will end up as zucchini bread, so says Kim.
This complete, I ran to the front bed and got a bunch of mint, and made up a drink of rum, lemoncello (Lemon Drop), lemon juice and the mint muddled. It was good, quite good in fact, but it did nothing for the throbbing thumb.
A run on the garden reminded me of the pickles I had moved to the refrigerator the night before. I cut one, and then ate the first half. Wonderful taste, not commercial dill pickle, rather a sharp, dill-backed spice. The meat of the pickle was softer than I was expecting, but it still had a nice bite to it. Overall, I’m happy.
Not so my daughter, who asked to sample the second half. She was not impressed, mostly I think by the spice. Kim thought it was merely “okay”, and I finished up the last half of the pickle. Still soft for my liking, but the flavor great.
I notice that the seeds are quite big, though they are not hard or problematic in any way.
Also, they are too big on one end to easily move to smaller storage. Bit of a pain, as the current vessel takes up quite a large space in the refrigerator. I’m not sure about cutting them and then re-storing. Sounds like lots of opportunity for spoilage.
Irish Red Ale
Checking up on the beer, I find that the foam has subsided. But I can tell fermentation is still active by the regular bubble pops visible on the surface. It’ll be a little longer before bottling occurs. But a good decision to start it, then leave it to ferment while I wasn’t there! No time wasted fretting over it.
That ends the day, short of some ice cream and White Collar on Netflix, and of course writing this post. Not much more and it is off to bed, to prepare for work once again.