Halloween night 2013, perhaps my last batch of pickles for the year.
What if this is the last week for cucumbers, for corn, for tomatoes? I wondered. Everyone enjoys the lacto-fermented pickles (boy, I wish I knew of a sweeter sounding name for them). Tomatoes, well, I could make sauce. Corn. It's so easy to make, and all summer I have wanted to dry some cornsilk for tea.
By the time Jared I crossed paths again at the market, I was loaded. "Sorry, I know I said no vegetables," I said. "They're all fruits anyway," he answered, smiling. "Just think of it that way."
My spouse is my king of common sense and calming sense. Sometimes I return the favor, but mostly I rely on him to read the maps and know what day of the week it is. I pay the bills and keep pretty good track of things around the house. "Have you seen my…?" he'll ask. "On top of the junk table, behind the mail and the glue," I'll reply. Complementary roles, like cucumbers and brine.