The Latest
A brief fluke of spring weather, sunny, warm and dry and perfect.
Starting the garden. Two long days blinking from the bright light, or is that from the whiteness of our winter skin, bared for the first time since Christmas in Florida? Two tons of compost shoveled from the back of a battered Chevrolet onto each still winter-heavy bed, all of them carefully staked and turned and furrowed and lined with tiny seeds: peas, spinach, chard, mustard greens, tatsoi, beets, carrots, arugula, collards, all of this just the beginning.
Sunday morning. NPR, hot coffee, fresh baked soda bread, companionable bickering over the crossword with Tom and Angie.
Saturday night. A bottle of rum smuggled in to enjoy Knowing all the more for the terrible terrible movie it is. Laughing uproariously throughout all the supposedly serious scenes. Sarah described it pretty spot-on:
Sadly, there will be no Knowing 2, because everyone and everything dies at the end, the entire earth destroyed by a sun shart (that one’s all Tracie), except for Nicolas Cage’s son, who escapes to Planet Narnia aided by a bunch of angel aliens who look like the guy from Coldplay, where he has to live out his days wearing Mormon underwear and waiting until he’s old enough to hump like rabbits. Also he got to bring his pet rabbit with him so that was cool.
Monday night. Walking home and did I mention it was warm and sunny? The smell of malty mash in the air, emanating from Full Sail. Pork carnitas with beans from last year's garden, a simple lemony cake from the April Gourmet. Best mail day of the month? The day Gourmet arrives, of course. So good.