It’s almost rhubarb season!
Can you feel it in the air? Can you smell it in the breeze? It’s the tart, tangy tingle of rhubarb whispering your name like a red-green lover with slow hands. It’s about time to put on our work gloves and fire up the rhubarb-thresher. I’m coming your way, rhubarb!
I cannot wait until that glorious moment when I can hold the sleek, succulent stalks of rhubarb in my hand and raise them aloft during an electrical storm like Gandalf and then make a pie with them like my mom. Rhubarb is the vegetable of legend!
Many years ago, when America was pure, I once had rhubarb bread. It was the finest, most patriotic thing I have ever tasted. It tasted so good, in fact, that I ate the whole loaf in one afternoon! Then I got the spiciest case of rhubarb squirts I’ve ever had. Rhubarb is full of tangy suprises!
Sorry if this is getting out of hand. Seems like I’ve got rhubarb on the mind. Last night I was up late drawing charcoal sketches of rhubarb and thinking about whether calling myself “The Rhubarb Retard” would be offensive or not. Rhubarb just has a way of getting under my skin and commanding me register the domain name “rhubarblust.com”, just in case I ever need it.
Also, I enjoy rhubarb bars.
Well, 250 words on rhubarb ought to do it. I’ll just leave it at that. Next time you hear from me, I’ll either be stuffed to the gills with rhubarb or sitting in county jail awaiting my court date. Either way, rhubarb is terrific!