They arrive in late summer, lurking within paper bags and tattered cardboard boxes. It’s an old menace — one that finds its way to the surface of our hungry society each summer. We bring it on
ourselves; the assault is ongoing and unstoppable.
In an attempt to prove ourselves worthy of owning dirt, we decide to “put in a little garden”. Just a small one. With tomatoes. Corn. Onions. And maybe just a FEW ZUCCHINI.
The garden grows, and the bragging begins. The sizes of green beans are shown with stretched digits. The circumferences of tomatoes are displayed by an “OK” sign at first; they swell to larger circles of various boastful ball-shapes.
Corn stalks climb from knee to thigh to shoulder height, and we report the growth to anybody who’ll listen.
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.