So here is my post, free writing, no editing – no looking back – no correcting the typos …….I love free writing I can tell…….

It is a beautiful day, as if to make up for the beautiful day, the wind decides to show its presence and the rain decides it does not want to be left far behind. So, here we have the wind and the rain, a perfect ending to a beautiful day. The garlic is sprouting, I have a ton of rhubarb, that I don’t know what to do with.

It just reminds me of that time in Crosby, when Mary and me went Rhubarb picking in the neighborhood. She loved Rhubarb. “People don’t care for it”, but I do she said with a glint in her eye. “I love Strawberry Rhubarb pie, and have you had the jam?”  “Simply delicious!” She declared, with a dreamy look on her face. Mary looked completely lost in her land of Rhubarb.

I had seen her excited before, but not this excited. Winning a game of Yahtzee or a game of cards put her in good spirits, but to express a longing for something … that was just not Mary’s style.  She was content with whatever she had. SO, I decided to go rhubarb picking with her.

“Ok let’s go Rhubarb – picking!”, I said.  Mary, the ever polite, well mannered and gracious woman felt not a moment’s hesitation at snitching Rhubarb from people’s yards’, in fact she felt a measure of delight. As she pulled it will full enthusiasm, as we moved from one yard to another driving arounf town. It was an altogether different matter that everyone knew everybody. And Mary would hardly suit the definition of a  vagabond or a suspicious person looking to do something more than pluck Rhubarb. Mary was delighted. She rubbed her hands in glee, as she proudly said, ” I have never done this before! This is a lot of fun.”

We drove back to her house, as we carried bundles of our loot out of her car, she exclaimed, ” Wonder where I am going to put it now?”  I didn’t quite understand. But, when I opened her freezer, I understood. It was full of packets filled with neatly chopped Rhubarb.

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