Now that the weather is warmer I have on a sleeveless t-shirt that I got in Vegas. It's all kinds of awful blue, green and yellow with a peace sign on it. The point of this is not the psychedelic nightmare of my shirt but the fact that my "oven" scar on my elbow is visible. I'm a very good cook but a total klutz in the kitchen.
I have a scar on my forefinger from when I was fifteen and cutting leftover turkey at Thanksgiving. Even now, with my
Ovglove I manage to harm myself. It all seems worth it when we sit down to a delicious and
nutritious meal. I love to cook but I'm a hazard in the kitchen.
The really good thing about the warmer weather? My husband is THE grillmaster. All I have to do is prepare it (which, unfortunately, usually involves knives) and he cooks it up on the grill.
AH! Life is good ... to quote Leo.
This fig tree came from my mother's fig tree which came from her father's fig tree. When my cousins and I were little my grandfather's fig tree was big enough for us to climb in. When we planted this tree 10 years ago everybody told us, "You can't grow a fig tree here in the mountains!" I named the tree Gus after my grandfather and Gus yields a bumper crop of figs every other year. This year there aren't many on him so I'll let the birds have at it when they get ripe. Right now the sweet smell is so delicious. It's planted below the window of my upstairs office and the whole office smells sweet and "figgy." 
