Saturday, November 12, 2005

The Gardener And The Boiled Peanuts

"There is no sadness at the coming of Autumn. All flags are flying at journey's end." - Anonymous

I breakfasted on boiled peanuts again. But I get ahead of myself.

Yesterday I planted some blooms to add color to the beds in front of the house. First, a multi-hued spate of pansies to soldier on as winter frosts dispatch the less hearty troops; then blue
Salvia to add a vertical component and for their lovely color; and Mexican heather (Cuphaea) for year-round color and perennial greenery. Last of all I put in some bold splashes of color: Vivid scarlet geraniums and yellow and orange tiger lilies.

This morning I went outside early to review my handywork and to make sure no possum or armadillo had rooted the new plants from the ground or trampled on their tender shoots. It was very cool outside and I got quite chilled (now come the peanuts).

Nothing warms the hands and soul like a big bowl of piping hot boiled peanuts. I bowed to this great Southern tradition and stood at the kitchen window shelling and eating them, and sharing the briny nuts with our 3-legged Corgi Fergus.

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