Close to the Ground
The ground cherries carpeted the garden and we scooped them up in large, open handfuls. One basket. Two. Three. A bushel. I am a lover of the garden but not of the gardening, so when an unexpected bounty like this one delivers when I can participate, I smugly admire myself for having the wisdom to plan perennials that will grow and spread and lay down their treasures for the likes of me. No little red hen am I. The garden is my husband's. How a man who tosses his keys anywher