We’ve entered zucchini and egg season, by which I mean we only eat zucchinis and eggs due to lack of time to make any other meal. What else could be so fast as summer squash sauteed in butter, eggs cracked in the pan and yolks broken with a spatula, a sprinkling of salt and pepper, a quick chop of parsley, folding in of some thinly sliced cheddar, and an easy transfer from pan to tortilla? It takes maybe five minutes. And we’ve got a lot of zucchini. The eggs, not as many (60 layers and only our 8 oldest are laying…oh chickens, how much longer can you hold out?), but plenty for the two of us and Waylon, who has also recently discovered scrambled eggs.
I think we had the same meal three times in the same day last week, with perhaps a slight variation from rice tortilla to a romaine leaf wrap when we ran out of the real thing. It’s high time for succession pulling and planting: the first round of kale, out. Two rows of lettuce mix and two rows of Asian greens, gone. Broadfork, compost, rake. Seed, transplant. Last night the dill finally went in, though the cilantro still waits in its trays, catching my eyes each time I walk by it, as does the next succession of summer squash. Soon. Soon. If we don’t get it in, what will our quick scrambles turn into?
Despite all the work there is to be done, there are moments of reprieve: a coffee gelato cone, a dunk in the reservoir, a quiet hour after the babe and papa have gone to sleep. I sink into these moments, these quiet breaths scattered like a trail through the day: this way now, there will be rest soon enough.
In another 6 hours the sun will rise, and we will, too. Edge will make chai, Waylon will eat a banana, and I’ll turn on the stove to make breakfast of golden yolked eggs and zucchini.