Along about mid-summer, I begin to get cryptic messages from my nephew, Bobby, who lives in Marshfield. “Coming soon: tomatoes . . . green beans . . . corn. . . squash . . . watermelon . . . cantaloupes . . . refrigerator pickles . . . tomato sauce and juice.”
All Aboard the Squash Train
By way of context, let me say he and his wife, Peggy, are both retired Air Force pilots and she’s now a commercial pilot. Having conquered flight, they’ve turned to farming, the latter being the more difficult.
An Entire Homegrown Meal
View from the Road