Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Summer In a Skirt
Friends are coming.
I scurry around the kitchen in my Sunday skirt, the one I picked up yesterday at Goodwill. I never bothered to change after service, so I should have an apron on, or something. But I don't and I like the skirt. So it stays on and I don't cover it up.
I dump the breadstick dough from the breadmaker onto the cookie sheet, the recipe with a bit of whole wheat flour. We are trying to be healthy here, you know. I smooth, and pull and stretch it out till it stays and fills the pan.
Bowls begin filling as I chop chop cukes from my own patch of earth out my kitchen window, right by the apple tree pair. I need a few more tomatoes, so, basket in hand, I slip on my sandals and flip flop my way toward the garden, Sunday skirt and all.
Wearing it makes me happy. Wearing it in my garden makes me smile.
I pick a handful, just the beginning of that harvest, then snoop around the broccoli and grab a handful of zucchini. More zucchini. There are beans too, calling for my attention, but they will have to wait. My recipe and bread crust need me first.
Inside I go, barefooted in the kitchen, cooking in a skirt.
I attach some romance to yesteryear, and the days of buggies and bonnets and beards,
yet in the summer,
in the garden,
in a skirt,
life right now feels simple and pretty and good.
Sharing this today at Tuesday's Unwrapped. Thanks, Emily, for the weekly reminder to unwrap moments of time and see the blessing.