Putting down a steaming bowl of hamburgers swimming in a pool of brown mushroom gravy, I glanced up at the clock on the dining room wall. As I turned to get the boiled potatoes, I questioned in surprise, “Seven o’clock already? It’s still so light out!”
After dumping half the potatoes onto his plate a few moments later, my husband ladled meat and gravy over them answering me, “Daylight savings begins next week.”
“You’re so busy this time of the year,” I commented, thinking about how many long hours he was away from home to deliver his customers’ organic seeds and fertilizers.
Arnie forked food into his mouth and nodded. After swallowing he said, “It’s a good business, but right now, all the farmers have on their minds is getting into their fields the minute the soil is warm and dry enough. They want the product they’ve ordered to be there when they need it.”
I took the last of the cooked carrots from the serving bowl and savored their sweetness in silence. A cool breeze from the open kitchen window made me shiver. The sweet carol of a robin came in along with the breeze and filled me with pleasure. I said, “It was so warm this afternoon, I opened a few windows. Now that it’s getting chilly again, I’d better shut them.”
The phone rang while I was away from the table. I groaned because I hate to have meal-time interrupted by telemarketers. When I sat back down I could tell Arnie was talking to a customer. He said, “I want you to have a check ready for me when I deliver the product tomorrow.” After listening to the person on the other end of the line for a few minutes, he said, “Look, I’m not your banker. You’re not taking out a loan. I need to be paid.” Continue reading