R is for rain, and ramps.

Catching up on the A-Z Blogging Challenge, again.

i love rain, except when i'm forced to drive in a downpour, otherwise, bring it on! i love the sound of it on the roof, the smell, the vibrant green after a summer storm... i always find it amusing that even though i devote many hours to art and don't think much of it, on a rainy day i feel like i'm given a free pass to stay inside and create, or maybe curl up with a book and a cup of coffee and let the hours pass by. i harbor no guilt at all for a rainy day spent inside. What's up with that? i shouldn't even be feeling guilt over making art in the first place, but i am human, and also very hard on myself.

Come spring and the rain it brings, one can find a certain little treasure in the forests of the eastern United States, and up into Canada - ramps. Ramps are like a wild leek, but they taste, and smell, like a combination of garlic and onions. They are delicious, but an avid fan will warn you about the smell your kitchen (read "entire house") and yourself will acquire after preparing and eating. My mom always relates the story of my dad eating his fair share of ramps while in season, and how she would make him sleep on the couch for days after. (i wonder if that played a part in their divorce, haha...) Every year, my dad brings me a decent bunch that he's foraged that i add to cooking or freeze to use later when the season has passed. My family eats the meals i prepare using ramps, but they are not big fans of the smell that lingers. My son is, in fact, completely put out by the smell and will vocalize his displeasure over and over.

If you can get ahold of ramps in your area, either by gathering yourself or buying at a market (if you're lucky enough to have a local one carrying them), i encourage you to try them if you haven't yet. Their taste is definitely worth their lasting odor, believe me.