It’s Fall: Go pick your own produce
My parents live in the woods in northern Connecticut. My mother has always had a garden and grown vegetables whenever she could. Matt and I had the good fortune of taking a final peek at her produce this weekend, before the frost steals the rest.
The amount of edibles growing in what she calls her “little organic garden” makes me feel like an ass for living in New York and periodically buying herbs that come wilting in little plastic containers for $4 when I’m in a pinch. A pinch for my mother would be attempting to procure mint in the backyard while throwing a dinner party for twenty during a hailstorm when everyone is just finishing their main course.
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