Goats Head Soup (A fitting punishment)
This is Adams’ passion fruit field where I picked beans last December
Some dastardly goats
I was disappointed when I came back from vacation. Matthews reported that goats had ruined my permagarden for the season, with the exception of a few surviving tomato plants. Also when I got my home, I went to the field behind the compound I had featured in my blog earlier with the cows plowing and Margaret digging. Matthews had given her some banana seedlings that were doing quite well. Even with a surrounding fence however, goats got in and ate the leaves from the banana plants right down to the stalks. The sweet potatoes and cassava are still OK. I have said before goats are tethered everywhere, but some get loose and roam around.
While talking with Margaret about the banana plant calamity, she picked some “greens” for me. Some of them was do do (long o), a bitter green which is a sad substitute for spinach in my opinion. I don’t even know what the other greens were, nor can I tell the difference with weeds very easily. Then the caretaker for Adams’ passion fruit field, where I had worked in December to pick beans, gave me a bag of beans, from the same place. So I am preparing and eating them. It’s only fair I emulate the natives. Its so time consuming for a pampered American from the suburbs.
A handful of greens to rinse three times, chop, and cook on the griddle.
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After cooking the greens, I made a grilled cheese and avocado sandwich, and that was dinner. I could not eat all the greens. How I miss broccoli. I will grow it someday.
A bag of Adams’ beans to clean while I watch some movie on my computer.
In my current situation of managing my monthly living allowance, these are relatively expensive, but labor saving, alternatives. Shame on me, the pampered American has not totally escaped processed foods.
In my new neighborhood, a new group of kids to treat me like a rock star. They come running, and I am obliged to lift and toss each one up a bit. Its good for my arms. Here, they clustered at my door and “helped” me knock while I waited for someone to let me in.
