HarvestTIME

It's hard to believe it is already the last weekend in June. My mom turned 80 yesterday, which is also hard to believe. I have memories so close they feel like I can step into them, of being a kid and my mother being a lot younger than I am now. In a pre-pandemic world, time seems to have flown by, and yet this pandemic has affected my sense of time like no other. Over the last few months, I hardly noticed the transition from one season to another. I saw fireflies last night and Im not sure when they first appeared or if it was the first time Id seen them this year. But on June 8th, our growers began cutting their wheat, and a week later samples started arriving in the mill room. In the South we have only one planting of grain a year. We grow winter grains, planted in the fall and harvested in late spring to early summer (up North and out West they can grow spring wheats as well, planted in the spring and harvested in the summer). With wheat samples to bake test, an activity we do each year, finally, my sense of time has become grounded in the present. 

from the ground up,

jennifer