Hot dill, summer in the city

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty, but the aroma of the dill in the hundred degree heat is a '54 Chevy memory road trip.

The dill  has gone to seed after bringing us our fabulous black swallowtail experience.  Maybe if the children practice cutting with scissors and remove the umbel/umbrella seed heads, the dill will return to leaves and flowers.  I'm turning into a leaves/seeds/flower child flashing back to Mom's dilly bread.  I haven't made it in decades.

The aromatic bucket-o-dill seed rejuvenated Norton the elderly Class Rabbit.  He was hopping all over the classroom like a bunny half his age in search of a fix.

So while I was collecting dill seed to bring home, a small bug hopped out of the dill and onto the table.  It was just the size of a dill seed, and handsomely striped.  I had to take its photo through the plastic of a bug catcher, but it is still impressive in its striped outfit.

Mom's dilly bread recipe probably came from  this Pillsbury bake-off.  There's no kneading.  It's especially good with leftover Thanksgiving turkey.

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder

1 comment:

Kathleen said...

In random coinciday mode, I just ran out of dill in my spice cabinet. I should have planted some!


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