We’ve been doing some mighty fine eating lately, the wife and me. I don’t reckon it would be what some calls would call “fine dining” but I wouldn’t be insulted enough to ruin my appetite. Good fun and at least one person you love to share it with may not make it a feast but, at least for me, it doesn’t have to be a feast to be some mighty fine eating.

We have some friends with a mighty fine garden and a mighty fine willingness to share. A few days ago, Randa came back from their place. She parked the car and walked around the front of the car and lifted up a big plastic baggie. “Look what I’ve got,” she bragged, grinning like a little kid with a big fish on a grassy pond bank, and holding up a gallon-sized plastic baggie filled with fresh green beans, already snapped. In her other hand, she had a small grocery sack with a mess of new potatoes.

“Well,” I marveled, “already snapped, too.” I paused just a bit but it was not for dramatic effect. “Why don’t you cook those up together and stir up a fresh batch of cornbread to go with ’em? I’ll pull a couple ears of fresh sweet corn and we’ll just have ourselves a fresh country supper in the summer.”

Pretty soon, I could smell seasoning bacon frying in a black skillet. On another burner, potatoes simmered in a six-quart stewer, getting a head start on the green beans. About an hour later, we sat down to plates filled with fresh green beans and new potatoes, corn on the cob and sliced tomatoes right from the garden, and steaming hot cornbread.

There wasn’t any gold-plated tableware, and there were no grand goblets of wine, but wanting anything more than what we had would just be plain greedy, don’t you think? Sometimes, that daily bread that the Lord gives us sure makes for some mighty fine summer eating.

H. Arnett
8/14/20