Of Radishes and Presidents

Our row of radishes grew from dirt to food, from seed to leafy leftovers, and still Barack and Hillary raced on. Three weeks from first watering to first nibbling, a double row about 5 feet long flourished while there wasn't so much as a primary, until Pennsylvania broke the drought. They were the usual mixed success (the radishes, not the candidates, I find Obama unusual, in a good way), about half went to all green with barely a bulge below ground, most of the others were small, from dime sized to about quarter sized, with only a couple growing any bigger and not much even then. But I ate any that rounded, 3 or more dozens. My family cares for them not. In any case they are gone now, and the peas are starting. Not enough for a pot, or even soup, but enough to crack a pod or two and share the sweet contents with the kids. By the time the first tomato turns red our candidate from Illinois will be ripened on to his own competition with the Republican presumptive nominee. I'm looking forward to both.