I washed the two kinds of lettuce, washed the grape tomatoes, peeled the carrots, peeled the onion, chopped up the (yellow) peppers, mixed up the salad dressing. Then I put together an enormous tasty meal to feed to the chickens on Thanksgiving Day.
("No, no," said The Yard Man, "chickens don't really like fruit peelings."
"Well, what?!" I said. "I should give them turkey and gravy, make little cannibals of them all?!"
[Next day, they got the fruit, and clucked in a thrilled sort of way])
THANKSGIVING DAY in the morning,
I gently mixed all the cut-up fruit together, added the grapes, cut up the kiwi and added it.
As soon as I had that fruit salad ready to go, I got out two big bowls. I chopped the carrots, chopped the onion, started tearing up the washed greens.
By now, The Yard Man was ready to set out for his sister's house. "Are you about ready to go?" he asked.
(I was tearing through that job of tearing the lettuce [at least I wasn't tearing up, as the onions caused me to do!) "Just about ready," I said.
I tossed in the carrots, peppers, onions, tomatoes. Poured on the sunflower seeds.
When it came to the pomegranate seeds, I did a little dance in my head--should I set them waltzing with the fruit, or partner with the lettuce? I couldn't decide, so the pomegranate seeds went solo.
And then we were out the door, The Yard Man whisking two bowls from their waiting spot on the table, while I urged for caution.
(to be continued)