(Natahsa’s first cauliflower of the season.)
I stopped to talk to the Russians late in the afternoon in the forecourt of their 1910-vintage farmhouse. Bisquit the Wonder Spaniel had a new haircut for the Dog Days to come, and Sasha raced around from the front to bang the gong announcing a vistor. The skies could not make up their minds about dumping moisture or teasing us with late sunshine. Natasha was in the garden, and Mattski sadly announced that they were headed back North in just a few hours.
“Natasha’s company won a $2.9 Billion health care contract, and they are frantic about spending the first $114 million. Meetings.”
“I am glad ObamaCare is good for someone,” I said. Details of life in the capital seemed to fade down in Culpeper. “Not true in my line of work. War is passé these days, unless you are a coal company.”
He asked me about the new satellite service that actually makes it possible to spoil the country with city work, and I swore I would look at the dish and let him know.
“It is something bogus- ‘Excede’ Maybe? Nothing exceeds like excess, but there is only one installer- some bandits called Wild Blue in Fredericksburg.”
“I didn’t want to do it,” he said pensively. “I prefer to be cut off from civilization down here.”
“You would be surprised at the change here on the lane even since 2008 when I bought. Didn’t even use to be a decent cell signal here. Now, I can even stream video off the web. It is awesome.”
Mattski looked dubious, but our attention was diverted by Natasha, who came around the corner of the cinderblock garage holding something green.
“Is cauliflower,” she said. “First of season from the garden.” She held it out for our inspection. No pest damage, bright white in color and bigger than my fist, cloaked in protective green leaves. “For dinner,” she said. “In Herdon.” She scowled. “No one up there knows what to do when you win big contract.”
“We are pretty good at it,” I said. “Though the work is going to be harder to get. We have done pretty well lately, but I will have to keep my fingers crossed. I am on furlough through the 8th, and we will see what happens while I am gone.”
“I bet cucumbers come in by then,” said Natasha. “We are going to have plenty.”
I smiled. Life is good in the country, and nothing is better than free vegetables fresh from the garden.
“I am doing pretty well, too,” I said proudly. “Some of my weeds in my garden are taller than I am.”
Copyright 2013 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com