a bounty

Today was the first "harvest day" of my garden. My friend, Saenah was coming over for a playdate already, so by the time the garden crew arrived, we had 2 moms, 7 kids, 6 gardeners and a documentary film student in the back yard.

They set to work harvesting the radishes, lettuce, chard, kale and turnips. Some were pulled, others clipped and left to regrow. The videographer got good footage of all the kids helping out, and even trying some of the veggies right out of the ground. I'm "entitled" to half, but only kept a fraction, since I knew we wouldn't eat much this go-around. I gave Grand Pink some radishes and turnips, Melinda took turnips and lettuce, and I sent Brad to Fredericksburg with a bit of everything for Freda.

That left me some red and green lettuce and a bunch of chard. I visited with Hope Dyson this evening when she was on her daily walk around the block, and being the master gardener that she is, she told me the best way to cook the chard so I could enjoy it for dinner tonight. Brad and the boys spent the night in Fredericksburg, and I had fed Gray an early dinner, so I was on my own. A perfect time to experiment with my beautiful bounty.

I opened the fridge, saw that HUGE mass of leafy greens, and then decided to just eat some nutella straight from the jar instead.

Barbara and Pink had the radishes and turnip greens for dinner and said they weren't really that good. And I'm sure that velvety, chocolate goodness was made with local, organic, sustainable, fair-trade ingredients, so it's cool.

the habitat

maybe I should be a little more cautious about taking the lids off of icky-looking sippy cups, tossing them on top of dirty dishes piled sky high in the sink, and not returning for eight hours.

well, I'm guessing it was eight hours. is that about how long it takes a family of slugs to escape said sippy cup, slime around all the dishes, climb up the edge of the sink and cruise on over to the banana bowl?

and how messed up is it that I carefully collected the entire family, returned them to the sippy cup, and placed the whole kit and kaboodle in a potted plant on the front porch? who am I?

feelings

Sometimes I feel like my life is a runaway stagecoach. And it's not like I'm the driver who has simply dropped the reins and only has to reach down to retrieve them. Not even close. I'm like the lady hanging out the back window screaming like a crazy person, which only makes things worse, and probably makes the horses run even faster.

Happy Birthday Cole!

Our sweet, crazy Coley Bear is three today.

that baby is trouble