CSA. And the ineffable More.

We're getting the CSA thing down pat. More or less. Anyhow, we are happy, and our members seem to be happy--when I come up the driveway at the end of pickup time there are always folks standing around in the shade of the blue canopy just talking. Talking about eggs, celery soup, fences, the mayor, our kids, their kids.

And then, dinner. Brook might be up in the kitchen just putting squash casserole--her grandmother's recipe--into the oven, DiAnne doing parsley'd potatoes, and Sabina chopping parsley.

Usually we have about 15 gathered around the copper tables in the Church of Outdoor Dining, and somehow there is always enough. Enough dirty dishes, too!

I always end up meditating on--well, not exactly meditating, but considering, then re-considering--the idea of abundance, that, at least some of the time, we are in the thick of glory, surrounded by light, glowing through leaves and saffron squash blossoms, flavor, friends, good sweet dirt, lightning bugs glittering in the dusk, and, as I head up to bed, what sounds like the breath of summer, the kids playing guitars and harmonicas on EricTheFarmer's front porch.

This whole farm idea is crazy for a couple of old docs looking at retirement. But it's a crazy that keeps on giving.