Peppers---The Surprising Delight of the Garden

I haven't written much of late primarily because in the summer it stays light so long I have to stay outside and mull over the many interesting things of the summer. That list is long but right now I will relate the story of the pepper.

It seems that one evening we were invited to my brother Crow's home for an evening of banter and Christian Fellowship, or was it pagan fellowship---they are all the same. See one religion ya see 'em all. We were deep into a spiritual discussion on the merits of the garden ( previously mentioned) while noting their ( Crow's family) many fine features and criticizing his weaknesses such as the lame-ass pepper plants and the less than spectacular tomatoes.

It is well known in our family it is good to be critical of individuals as a way of raising one's own ego or self esteeme which ever comes first. Some of his things suck the big one but others are rather handy like his onions.

It is also fair game to pilfer some of his efforts by simply grabbing it and consuming it on the spot while doing a critique of that particular vegetable. Again, the purpose is to belittle failed efforts and yet compliment, if lightly, the successes.

There in his miserable garden was this stunted pepper plant that had on it some rather colorful red peppers of the smaller persuasion. It was not recognizable as being of a hot sort but one probably of a sweeter demeanor. We were about to have a nice meal outside among the throngs of biting insects (just kidding) and diving fruit bats all infested with various parasites most suitable for human occupation.

While I had in had a nice brew of my own making, I took a small nip on the end of the selected pepper and found it to be most pleasant, sweet, flavorful, reminiscent of our years on the Mediterranean and fit for consumption. Confident I had chosen carefully, I took a great bite of the jewel-of-a-pepper thinking to follow it with a gulp of barley pop. Sweet Jesus, I made a mistake. I have never been wrong before, but I have made mistakes and this was one of them.

My head fell back and my eyes rolled into their sockets, my tongue swelled and burned much like it had when tortured in the war--you know with the hot iron on the tongue. My breath was short and my pulse increased to 2000 beats. The only solution was the beer and I had no choice but to use it as a coolant much like ethylene glycol is used to cool a motor. I couldn't swallow the beer and it began to boil. My eyes were half closed and while I was unable to speak numerous profane thoughts passed through my now inflamed mind.

I tried crackers and cheese and vegetables (no more peppers) and was about to start eating grass when it finally began to dissipated. I looked around and do you think there was one once of sympathy? No, not one. Only laughter and derision, and accusations of theft, and disrespect, of weakness and even of stupidity.

I was deemed a loser, a man of weak character. Personally, I think it was a trick, a way to make a compassionate man of me, an appreciative individual who will never say another critical thing about anybody's garden. Well, my mouth is better but my mind is not apologetic and I just hope that one day Crow handles one of those peppers and then touches his eyes or better yet some private parts. Life is good.