Sunday, March 22, 2009
Silent Sunday: The Bushel Basket Edition
On Friday I grabbed my camera and walked next door to my parents' house to take some pictures as the sun was going down. There's so much over there to photograph: the barn, the pump house, the wood burning furnace, the graveyard of Volkswagens, the silo, the stray bowling ball outside the pump house, the windmill, the dead air boat, etc.
This is the doorway to the pump house. Those bushel baskets are ancient and were once used by my grandfather to transport daffodils from the field to the barn. We the pickers would take our bunches of flowers and put them in these baskets. A bunch consisted of a certain number--12? 15? I can't remember - of flowers bound by a rubber band. A tractor pulling a wagon would come along and pick up all the baskets. At the barn those baskets would be submerged in buckets of water while they waited to be packed in cardboard boxes for destinations unknown.
These very same baskets are also used for crabs. Speaking of which, crab pot season started this past Tuesday. What this means is that the guy down the creek from us who sets pots will go out every single morning and every single evening, no matter what, to set and check his pots. He's as reliable as the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening.
I could write quite a bit about crab pots, but seeing as this is supposed to be a Silent Sunday, I ought to stop talking right about now.
If not sooner.