Beyond tending to the chickens, Daniel and I spend the majority of our time in front of our computers with phones in hand, making permanent indentations in our couch (I like to work at a horizontal angle) or desk chair. But today, as the weather was gorgeous, we were able to venture outside.
So at around 1pm, we put down our laptops, painfully stretched out our legs (I graciously removed my bathrobe) and we headed over to the Mississippi River to actually spend some nice time together. And by “nice time” I mean the first 5 minutes before I lost Daniel. Thats right, there we were in the beautiful wooded area right by the water, with the warm wind blowing through the trees, and the two of us most likely in the middle of some passionate conversation about feelings when I turned around and saw that Daniel was missing.
It took only a few moments to realize what had happened. And only because I recognized the shoes on his feet sticking straight up in the air did I see that Daniel had taken a full dive into a patch of wild ramps. They weren’t even ready to pick yet, and there he was rolling around in them as though they were a pile of money. It took me minutes (minutes!) to coerce him to keep moving and even then, i knew his mind was elsewhere. From that moment on, I’d lost him.
Over the past year I’ve come to terms with the fact that Daniel’s love for me pales in comparison to that of wild edibles. (And to his defense, Ive told him numerous times that I could never imagine loving anyone more than my mom’s dog, Oliver.) But that doesnt mean it isnt a little worrisome when he drives with his head out the window trying to get a glimpse of dead elms (morels), or ducks into old logs and swampy marshes on family picnics (hen of the woods), or runs screaming like a little school girl into any wooded area we may come across (ramps, nettles, you name it). It’s something I know I need to get used to, because (similar to what I’ve told him about myself and our amazing couch set), Daniel and Foraging are two-fers. They go together.
And that’s fine. Cause Ive got something that wild edibles dont. Yes, they’re exciting and dangerous… yes, they get you out of the home and into new, unknown areas… and yes they’re unpredictable and sometimes hard to get. But those motherf#$ers are seasonal. Im here year round. So, as far as Im concerned, they’ve got nuthin.
Now — a picture of my mom’s dog, Oliver. How could you not love that face?