dilly beans

We canned them together in August, with sunshine in our faces looking at the mountain of green beans piled on the table and five cousins staring in awe of the green strips of gold from Mamo's garden.

Phone lines to Grandma E all the way on the other side of the country bounced with our giggles and shouts in excitement at the new project.

We raced as we crammed as many as we could into the Kerr quart jars all lined up for each of us... twelve quarts in all.

Tooter horns blasted through the house in a deafening roar at the birthday party that camp week while twelve quarts sat on the counter and quietly popped closed.

And today, two and some months later when the burning bushes flame red and the trees pause in wait for the big wind soon to knock down their summer full of leaves.

M comes bounding out the back door, eager to tell L sitting simple quiet on the swing.

"Dilly beans on the table!"

We all laugh and run in for a taste of the week gone by too fast up at the cabin and summer and crisp tart wonderfulness.

And on this warmer-than-usual fall day we remember the sweet summer.

(kaye ann silver)