Much later than I predicted, the peas are ripe. I planted the seeds around St. Patrick's Day. Late June, they finally are ripe. This picture of D I think will always remind me of the June that so many payments came due--school tuition deposits, summer pool membership, summer lessons for R--that he had to put off getting a haircut until July. He's a very good dad.
We've had several harvests, and lovely bowls of just-picked, barely-cooked, peas. The first were so good we ate them plain, the last few we added butter and salt and ribbons of fresh mint. R is mostly indifferent about the garden. She has always liked cherry tomatoes. Not much else besides flowers interests her. But she liked these peas. She liked pulling the strings and opening up the pods and she said the just-picked peas tasted "like a lollipop."
Peas and paws. See Charlie's little white socks at the top of the picture? He loves it when we're outside. He steps up his game, and it's rare to get a picture of him that's not blurry, out-of-focus motion.
