Dinner in the Church of Outdoor Dining is usually a casual affair, but sometimes we pull out the ancient damask tablecloths from the highboy we inherited from Tom's reclusive-while-alive-but-now- long-deceased spinster second cousin (I think!). Tom finally actually bought a brand-new white tablecloth for the occasion here--a dinner to thank our good friend Sherbe and his wife Sheila and support crew for the gate they contributed to our fenced garden. And for everything else they do for us.
DiAnne's green-tomato gazpacho--made with Green Germans (an heirloom tomato, neither unripe nor foreign nationals)--is both exquisitely tart and exquisitely green. Food out here can't help but be beautiful!
Sherbe actually lived here on the farm long ago, in the late 70's, during the days of no air-conditioning and the famous outdoor shower. Perhaps these features were inextricably linked.
And no, I don't iron my tablecloths. Ever. Unless Johnny Hunt happens to be visiting. Then HE irons them.
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