A Journal of Sorts

Sunday, 18 April 1999

We ate balls

Teresa brought me a new apron last night; it looks is more of a smock than an apron. She says her mother-in-law wears one while she is cooking and doing chores. It is a very domestic looking thing. Just to give it a try, I put it on and made a cake, then worked some in the yard. I love playing dress up.

The poppy and the calendula seedlings are planted now. They are in the beds around the cypress and the red oak trees in the daffodil forest, so, hopefully, Shithead won't dig them up. There's no sign of the oregano or cilantro yet. I suppose it is too soon to expect anything, but I go out there and look every day.

The carrots, peas, squash and jalepenos seem to have really adapted to their home in the garden plot. The tomatoes seem to be thinking about it. There are several tomato plants leftover from the plantings. Since I've already given a few to Teresa, I'm not sure what to do with the rest of them. That's what happens when you grow tomatos from seed. You end up with way too many for suburban gardening.

The morning glories are starting to do their climbing thing. Hank's clematis is really taking off, but it isn't doing the fence thing. It has decided to tangle itself up in the mums instead.

Speaking of mums, the ones in the pot in the front have started blooming. They are lavender. There are three pots out front that need to be moved around to the back patio, but I am holding off on those mums for awhile. I want to use them for the photo on my May page and am afraid if I move the pot, they'll realize it isn't autumn yet and stop blooming. I plan to transplant all the potted mums to the mum bed in the back, but am waiting until the bulbs go dormant before I dig in the pots.

I meant to go to bed early tonight so I'd be asleep when Jason woke up from his nap. He ~never~ takes a nap, but today, he went into his room just after noon and went to sleep. It is 11PM now and he's still sacked. (I went and checked a few times and, yes, he is still alive.)

Tom and I had some beans and rice leftover from last night's feast. No, we didn't have any Rocky Mountain Oysters leftover. Tom threw them away as soon as our visitors walked out to get in their van.

Tom had a very expressive way to relate our whole new eating experience. He said, "we ate ~retching sound~ balls".