I am sad. I’ve been sad for two weeks since I went outside to check my garden and discovered that vermin (likely raccoons) had knocked down my corn and ate unsightly gouges into every cob.
The picture above was taken just days before the massacre and, as you can see, the ears were forming nicely. Visions of melted butter were dancing in my head. Times were good.
Sigh. The corn part of my big gardening adventure was a partnership between my son Oliver and I; so the loss is doubly felt at our house. That said, we’ve picked ourselves up and visited a farm stand to purchase corn. It was very good and our bellies, none the wiser, think they’ve had our homegrown kernels. It’s a subterfuge, I know. But I’m just not strong enough to break the news to my digestive system yet. Perhaps, in time, I’ll heal.
What we learned: it isn’t thumbs that separate us from other members of the animal kingdom, it’s the ability to eat corn in an orderly, sequential linear fashion that makes the difference. I’m sure of it!