Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Neighbors of ours — I’ll call them Mike and Dave — have a stupendous backyard garden; and it seems we’ll be the recipients of their overflow veggies from now through the first frost. It’s exciting because we get to sample fresh-from-the-earth food without doing any of the work.

So far we’ve been given cucumbers, zucchini, and green beans with the promise of more exotic things to come. And so far, we’ve managed to find a use for everything. This is more difficult than it sounds, since I am not the world’s greatest unrecognized cook nor is Earl the world’s greatest undiscovered gourmand. As proof of the latter, I submit that he thinks canned green beans — those dark forest green, mushy strings of something formerly called a vegetable — are delicious. Especially when slathered with leftover bacon grease.

Please don’t fault me for Earl’s tastes; he started eating my cooking too late in life to change his opinion. Still, I’m thinking Mike and Dave can prove otherwise with their cornucopia of fresh tastes. This is because, after consulting The Joy of Cooking, a cookbook I obtained in 1965, I made a fresh salad with the cucumbers; and Earl ate his fair share. He even said he’d try it again. So chalk one up for the garden.

As for the zucchini, our current solution was to take it to Earl’s office and hope others enjoy it while I search for recipes that show zucchini at its best. I wouldn’t have been reduced to this solution except that we received an abundance of zucchini, more than could garnish a salad or morph into bread.

Then, tonight after dinner, we blanched the big bag of green beans that arrived on our doorstep a couple days ago. I look forward to relishing their taste in the middle of winter when there isn’t a green bean on the vine in Michigan. Earl didn’t seem too impressed; in fact, he downright refused to taste one. But no matter. I ate both our samples before packing the beans in freezer bags for later consumption. Believe me, there is no comparison between a fresh bean (even one that is destined to be frozen) and a canned imposter.

Even though it’s only the middle of July, I feel blessed not only by the immediate source of fresh food but also by its promise of great taste in winter. To this end, I secretly pledge to stay on Mike and Dave’s good side through the season.