Growing Things

White Onion
White Onion

I have a fondness for onions. My feelings are not because onions are one of the most used vegetables across cultures or that this pungent member of the lily family was an object of worship for early Egyptians. For me the innocent looking bright green scallions and the grown up white onions with elegant long green stems bound at the bottom by a scraggly tuft of roots for sale in the Farmers’ market remind me of my first garden.
My recollection is that I was about six years old. For weeks that spring I had pestered my grandmother, begging her to let me have a separate garden. My grandmother and grandfather gardened on a grand scale, an acre of great variety – corn, cabbage, peanuts, kale, several types of squash, sweet potatoes and of course, tomatoes large and small.

For Love of Elvis

It was a glorious morning after two days of rain. The sun’s rays flowed through the small bay window bathed the thriving basil and thyme and continued on to the terra cotta tile. At this hour the rays were more warm than hot.

Al took no notice as he sat at the small mosaic-topped bistro table. He read the headline several times. Tree Falls on House. He didn’t feel compelled to read further, to learn what the story was. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about a neighbor’s misfortune; he just could not concentrate, not even after a second coffee.

As usual in the morning, Pam was busy washing their few dishes, leaning into the sink, the faucet running hard. Looking over at her, Al could not understand why a couple of dishes demand so much effort.