B spent all day yesterday in her garden, getting the crops planted – onions, potatoes, peas, lettuce, if memory serves. It’s the only mother’s day present she asks for. My part of the bargain is to do the worrying about dinner so she won’t have to. I solved that problem by running out to Fraboni’s to bring home some guy food: sausages and a pail of potato salad.
The place was empty when I walked in, just two guys in aprons behind the cash register playing a video game on a smart phone and a gal behind the deli counter. She seemed a tad grumpy when I started asking her about the sausages, but I took her attitude to be directed at the guys playing Angry Birds while she did the work; she seemed to lighten up a bit while we talked about how many links to a pound and how many pounds to a pail.
I fired up the grill when B finally came in from the garden at about six-thirty and barbecued the whole mess of sausages so we would have leftovers for lunch the next day, but B gobbled up just about all her portion, leaving behind half a sausage and just enough potato salad for lunch – a hungry girl after spending all day on the back forty.