I relate many thoughts I have back to food. I realize most people don't do that. I don't know why I do it, but I always have.
So here's what's on my mind this weekend as we work in the garden and yard.
My parents were complete non-drinkers. They didn't believe in the consumption of alcohol in any form. They weren't people who critized others openly, but their disapproval was obvious. When I was a kid, we had neighbors, an older couple, named Mr. and Mrs. Weber, who made dandeline wine. They'd sit on the porch on a hot evening and have a little. They poured it into glasses from canning jars.
One night, the Weber's invited my parents over to their porch. Being hospitable people, the Weber's offered my parents a taste. At that point, my conservative little mom and dad proceeded to get wasted on dandeline wine. Oh, they did it quietly, but that's what happened.
It wasn't talked about, but next weekend and another hot summer day passes. The Webers come out to the porch with their evening refreshments. My parents happen to be out. They stroll over for a visit. My sister and I watch them from beneath the old cherry tree as they again get blasted with the Webers. This event reoccured a number of times that summer.
It was a good summer.