The temptation of plums and a Wednesday night veggie feast

I love summer. I love it for the heat, the humidity (yep), the sound of tree frogs late in the evening, the smell of vanilla ice cream melting, and of course, the veggies.

On Sunday, I drove to Cottageville for a story. It's going to be a great story, yes, but on the way back, I hit a farmstand -- I simply had to stop. It's in my blood. Okra, plums, fresh corn, oh my. I couldn't help it. The farmer wanted me to taste the plums, and I did and threw a pit into the field of brush beyond the tent. He knew what he was doing, out there on 61 way past Summerville on a Sunday when everyone out there was out to church but me. He knew I could be tempted.

He was right. I bought more plums than one person should buy.

On Monday, Holly called and said she had veggies if I wanted. Boiled peanuts, squash, the sweetest little Persian cukes ever. And suddenly, here we are.

And so it's Wednesday. I am in the middle of a very heavy workweek, and yet, I'm hungry. I need food, although I don't want to take the time. (It's amazing to cook, but even for me, without distraction, sometime it is too much.) But when you really aren't eating processed food, there's not much of a choice. You have to do something.

I did. I threw some potatoes in the oven, sliced some tomatoes, breaded a bit of okra, and can we call that even cooking? Suddenly, I had one of those bounty dinners, those summer bounties, where you know that you gotta eat it up or it's going to go bad.

And here we are, the sound of tree frogs high after the rain, and Summer upon us with its tomatoes and cucumbers and okra that I wait for all year. I am just lucky that my boyfriend Beets didn't decide to join the party; I might not have been able to handle it.