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Ben is home from the North country. The funeral was very sad, I hear. But, the family enjoyed gathering together, in NJ. He is back now with the news from the broader Walker family. We sat around and listened to his tales of the trip and then it was time for mommy to go to bed.
I have grown my first season of okra and they are a wonder to watch and eat. I never ate okra, before my father-in-law introduced me to this winsome and delicate vegetable. Now, I delight to go outside and pluck 5 or 6 off the plants and put them in (sneak them in) some goulash or other. I like the taste and I think it staves off the seasonal colds. Yesterday there was a green grasshopper pretending to be an okra and he almost got tossed into the goulash, except that he winked at me to let me know that he had eyes. My okra has no eyes, that I do know. He was exactly the color of my okra. I have about 10 or 12 still coming off the plants, and then I think that the season will be over. I am not sure, though.
My okra patch is very small, but the children tease me and say, do you want me to go out into the fields and pick some okra for dinner. They call me the plantation slave driver. I guess I am, too.
As an aside, but still on the subject of the slave driver. I got to be the boss at church, since Ben was in the "Northlands". I milked it for all it was worth. I looked at them after service and said, if you guys are not at the car, when I get there, I am leaving you.(Who does that sound like--{shame on me}) Well, for the first time ever, the children were all in the car, when I got there after Sunday school. They know that I am fearful of driving "Fretful carriage" more than just around the corner, so they humored my tyrannical commands. Next week they can socialize when their Dad is doing the driving. But, it haunts me so, that I sound like my Dad.
The cool, low 80's are a welcome temperature, these back to school days. We had to wear sleeves, to church. I hope that you are having a happy holiday weekend.
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