Father's Day, and Eating Italian

I remember my Sicilian father tending to his garden, aKentucky blue grass seed, and rope off the entire
beer can poised in a flower bed, a cigarette hangingarea with string, sticks, and rags, to deter any intruders.
out of his mouth. He would grow several kinds ofIt offended him greatly when squirrels would steal his
tomatoes, zucchini the size of baseball bats, and thenearly ripe peppers, because they never ate them,
most perfectly shaped green peppers. Our front lawnthey just batted them about the way a cat would a
was always impeccable. He would turn over theball of yarn.
ground, deposit a coating of snow-white lime atop the