We spent the afternoon yesterday racing ahead of the rain. The western horizon would fill with dense, racing blackness.

Martin said, “we’re going to get floored”.

It reminded me of 1987, planting broccoli at this time of the year with Bobby, a fifteen-year-old neighbor boy. We looked up at black eggshell clouds and Bobby said, “We’re going to get floored”. We raced for the house but didn’t make it in before an eleven-inch rain started pelting.

Yesterday, we kept going, thinking we’d just be able to finish one more row. But the rain never came and we kept planting; 1,000 cucumbers, 2,400 cabbage, 2,100 purple broccoli and 2,000 cauliflower. Just as we were finishing the last row the clouds broke up and the sun pored through. Not a drop. It has been a season of rarely being able to predict the weather.

Picking the first kale this morning. We are starting 2 weeks late because of the hailstorm on June 7. All the leaves were shredded and the plants had to regrow new ones. It’s lovely now. Green and lush, truly a nutritive delight.