The Garden Gym

My dad and I shared some laughs today when I started to ask what a hoe looked like. “Here it is,” I hollered upon seeing it, just as the image of what I was looking for came to me. I hurried over to the garden where he was waiting to show me where to plant potatoes.

“No problem,” I assured him, “I can hoe a row for poe-tay-toe!”

In fifteen minutes, I was feeling muscles in my back that I didn’t even know I had. Thank God they are not the same ones required to do the “asparagus cutting squats.” Between the two, I should be getting tone while growing good food – talk about a win/win.

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The row of potatoes I planted

And speaking of winners, it was another hit last night as The Master Storyteller played Gideon. Tonight I am looking forward to the story of Jonah and the whale. I’ll be there at 6 p.m.! (Spoiler alert – he already said he is not playing the whale.)

Cake of Cheese

Dave is good. He called on his way home and after we hung up, I thought, “Poor guy, he’s probably wondering, does ‘I don’t want cake’ really mean I shouldn’t get cake, or is this one of those times when I should know better?” Then I prayed for help accepting whatever he would decide to do.

But surely he won’t get cake – he knows I am sugared-out. And where is he going to get a non-GMO cake, is what I was thinking. Yeah, he knows better.¬†And he did. So guess what he did? He got me a “cake of cheese.”

Not a cheesecake, but a cheese ball, and if you know me, well then you know that means that Dave is good. So now on my birthday, a cheese ball is now called a cake of cheese. So instead of cake and ice cream, we had cheese and pretzels. And it was yummy! And non-GMO, of course.

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