The Sound of Onions

Some of the best things about having a garden are the way your senses are awakened. The blue of the broccoli leaves in contrast to the greens of the rest of the garden and the way the water beads on those leaves like they are something made of rubber. The instant garlicly smell when the bulbs are out of the ground, and the papery, hollow sound of onion leaves when they are disturbed by a breeze.

It's a phenomonal feat to grow the tallest sunflower when you're the smallest gardener, and

imagine your surprise when the potates are pulled up and they are the color of cherries! And we haven't even described the taste of plump sugar snap peas from the vine, a handfull of homegrown blueberries, roasted chioga beets, or homegrown potato salad with your own onions, herbs, and dill...

What will we remember of this summer? A successful garden? The great music we heard? The long car trips? Camping in the rain? Dancing in the twilight to Seth and May? Peddling clothes?

Probably that, but mostly the time we spent together...

in the UP on Lake Superior, running and laughing on the beach!

God is Nature, Heaven is Earth.

New Computer, New Apartment, and Tomatoes!

Well, lots has changed since the computer burglar struck. Thank you to everyone who "Burgled Me Back" by buying something from my silly little sale on Etsy! I was able to buy a new
used computer and actually managed to make an upgrade to a MacBook Pro, which, as you know, they only let Pros use.


I also decided to move out of my apartment (new place pictured above) because the slumlord that I paid rent to never fixed the lock on the door that lead to the break-in. I'll keep this rant simple: he hired some idiots to "fix" the lock TWO WEEKS after the break-in and because they were hacks (i.e. happened to own a screwdriver, a step ladder and had two hours to spare) they adjusted, but didn't fix, the lock. As far as Slumlord was concerned, the lock was "fixed" because he made a call to those jokers and therefore he was off the hook. What a jack ass. Don't worry, I told him so.

So I moved all the way up to Queens where I'll have a better commute to Hunter College in the fall. I have to say it. Queens is pretty great. Quiet at night and nary a hipster in sight. Cheaper than Brooklyn, too!

NOW, as some of you may know I threatened to grow tomato plants some months ago. I am a former plant murderer and decided I would like to reform my murderous ways by keeping some plants alive for a change. (Note: It's not that I enjoy murdering plants or ever intend to, I just can't help my lazy ways.) I thought tomato plants would be a good place to start the reform process because if I keep them alive, I get to eat tomatoes. Simple and delicious plan.

For the first few months they lived on a roof top in Brooklyn. Now they are cozy along the front of my Queens apartment and kept company by a bunch of other leafy friends. ("other plants" if that insinuation wasn't clear) The tomatoes were ready to eat this week and I have to say it: I do not like the "Better Bush" variety. Not good. The Romas weren't really that good either. Too mushy. The Grape Tomatoes are the clear winners for me. Tiny and firm, that's how I like 'em.