Silver Tongue
Posted 12/3/2008 6:15pm by Eugene Wyatt.
Tilling in manure
We're getting better. We're planting our garlic a month earlier than last year, but we're still a month behind other garlic growers.
Last Saturday, for the first time, we took the garlic harvested in July to market in New York; we put two crates on a table in front with a sign that said "Catskill Merino Garlic $2.00/head."
Last Saturday, for the first time, we took the garlic harvested in July to market in New York; we put two crates on a table in front with a sign that said "Catskill Merino Garlic $2.00/head."
About 10 o'clock, an out-of-town couple, he in a vicuna coat and she wrapped in fur, stopped at the stand; they noticed the yarn and read the lamb sausage signs. The gentleman waved a head of garlic in the air between us as he peered at me standing there in my insulated overalls, "You're a sheep farmer—2 dollars—what's so special about this garlic?" I smiled slyly, "Sheep shit, sir. We grew it where the sheep over-wintered." He nodded, smiled at his wife and said, "Two, we'll take two."
Paul Valery said a poem is never finished, only abandoned. By poem I take him to mean any work of the imagination. I linger over my little conceits: walking down the road after having posted a blog entry—it hits me—I shouldn't have said that, I should have said it this way. When I get back to the keyboard, I change the piece even though it has the semi-permanency of having been posted online; I rationalize my changes: no one will ever know unless I tell them.
About 10 o'clock, an out-of-town couple, he in a vicuna coat and she wrapped in fur, stopped at the stand; they noticed the yarn and read the lamb sausage signs. I had been waiting all morning for this gentleman. He waved a head of garlic in the air between us as he peered at me standing there in my insulated overalls, "You're a sheep farmer—2 dollars—what's so special about this garlic?"
I closed my mouth to hide my glistening fangs and smiled slyly, "We grew it in sheep shit, sir." The only way for him to escape me was to laugh, "Two, we'll take two," he said. And my red eyes glowed.
2 Comments »
JoEllen Estenson said,
Clever telling of the tale in both cases -- the fangs and red eyes a bit over the top for a gentleman sheep farmer. However, good story (ies)and garlic is always good -- tail and all.
Eugene Wyatt said,
Vampires raise garlic to develop an immunity to it.