Write about: zero hour.
Got potatoes and onions out of the garden and into the root house today, both of which will definitely keep just fine for Saturday's market. Tomorrow we'll be harvesting tomatoes, carrots, green beans, and possibly leeks. Also cucumbers, if there are still some good ones out there.
Would have done more today but I spent a lot of time trying to book a night away for my family this Sunday night. The first place I wanted was out of rooms that would work for the three of us and then I had a hell of a lot of trouble getting a hold of anyone else in the area I want to go (not saying where yet because Kat's letting me surprise her with the destination).
Anyway, another place finally returned my call after dinner and we're all booked for a little mini-vacation this weekend. The accommodations sound really great, so hopefully all the hassle will end up being worth it.
Back home, growing up on the farm, us kids had a couple of different zero hours. We'd start off our day with the first one: 7 am. If you were not out of bed and either on your way to, or sitting at, the breakfast table when the clock struck seven you had better be dead or dying.
Dad would make sure we'd be one of the two, that was a guarantee.
The second one only existed during the school year: 4 pm. That was when we were all due back from our classes, no excuses or exceptions. I can remember more than a few frantic runs up the dirt driveway, textbooks bouncing around in my backpack as the countdown in my head brought me ever closer to a butt whooping.
And of course the day ended with the final zero hour: midnight. Homework done, teeth brushed, under the sheets, lights out. If you needed to use the washroom you'd better have thought ahead. I don't think my sister always made it through the night without accident, but I never dared make fun of her. I had some close calls myself.
My brother tried whizzing out our window one time, at like three in the morning. Dad heard him, lord knows how but he did. Neil never made that mistake again.
There was some flexibility in our lives, I don't want to make it sound like there wasn't. But one thing we all knew: you did not cross the boundary of zero hour unscathed.