We stop at our community garden plot. I am amazed to find it still productive. We harvest greens and onions, which I will gleefully put in my belly at suppertime.
We also plant garlic for next year. Every culinary bone in my body screams in protest as I watch the cloves go into the earth.
I think of all the scapes and garlic I get to gleefully put in my belly next year.
I'm okay again.