Glorious Corn!

Twenty-five ears of corn - corn I grew! - chillin' in my freezah.  Yeah. 

I wasn't planning on picking corn when I went to the garden to start the soaker hose in the green beans.  Truth is, I don't know when it's ripe enough.  I've just been letting it sit on the stalks.  Meanwhile the racoons have intensified their assault.  (Word must've gotten out in the 'coon community.)  My neat corn rows have a strip-mined look about them. 

This evening, The Husband stepped in and took charge.  He picked and shucked and silked, and we blanched them and put them in freezer bags.  Nice-looking corn.  Twenty-five ears that the racoons didn't get. 

The Husband thinks there may be that many more ears that will be ready in the next few days.  I figure we ought to be good for another dozen, assuming the racoons only get *half* of what's still out there.  They may step up their own harvest when they realize they've been raided.