Jeremy left today to go to Powell River for his uncle’s birthday. We’d decided a while back that I would stay behind, do the market, hang with Mia and get some quality alone time in. Sounds like a fantastic plan. I think it was probably my plan. Totally fantastic plan. I often come up with these “fantastic” plans… plans that would be fantastic if everything went the way I imagined in my head. I imagined a leisurely Friday harvest in dappled sunshine. I imagined the perfectly clean vegetables in perfectly clean bins in the creek, waiting for me to wake up Saturday morning and load them in the perfectly dry truck. I imagined coffee and cake. I imagined knitting.
I think I always imagine knitting.
* Please realise that there is no cake, and there is rarely cake on Saturday mornings. Also, please realise that the vegetables are NEVER perfectly clean, nor are the bins, and the truck is never either perfectly clean NOR dry. I don’t know which set of elves was supposed to ensure the plan went off as I imagined, but they obviously didn’t get the memo, because…
There was no dappled sunshine. That’s really where everything started to go wrong. There was rain. And not just pitter patter rain. Torrential downpour rain that caused everyone I know to wake at midnight and question whether we were finally being invaded by whomever invades our nightmares. This wasn’t an August rain. This was a January rain. Jer and I weren’t expecting a January rain in August. The truck’s windows were all open. The tailgate was down. The hammock and pillow were out. So were tools, and bins, and bikes, and boxes of canning, meticulously labelled.
Now don’t get me wrong… we needed the rain. The veggies needed the rain, and Jer and I needed it. It makes going away (both him this weekend, and the two of us together on Tuesday) WAY easier. It makes the trees happy, and it makes our fellow islanders who were running low on water breathe a little easier. It’s good for the birds and all of those other critters. But it bloody well sucks for harvesting, and it sure made a big old mess. The house is FULL of stuff in various stages of drying. The truck is soaking wet, and will hopefully dry out before winter. I changed my clothes 4 times today. The first 3 sets are lying in a pile in the laundry room. I kept thinking I was done harvesting, but the harvest just didn’t want to end… especially after Jer left. Now I just hope that it doesn’t rain at the market tomorrow, because that really isn’t as much fun as… well… as the market in the sunshine.