So, the plan for today is to, at long last, drive down to Escondido (almost San Diego) to visit MW and pick up some garden irrigation equipment for next year's garden. You know, the one I say I am not going to have next year? Speaking of which, I should go out and finish deep watering as it is heading toward 100 this week.
So, keeping this short so I can get on the road. Here's a good poem from this week's New Yorker.
PROJECT
Your clock's been turned to zero,
though there is no zero on a clock.
Your skin is petal soft no matter
how old the starter kit was —
but you will get tired or bored.
That's when the clock starts up.
Your parents want you happy,
but we also want you to set you down,
to get back to our old lives.
How will you turn against us
once you figure this out?
You're about to discover intention.
There are four stuffed animals
in front of you on strings.
They are targets.
You won't understand this for a while.
You flail your arms.
Sometimes you make one bounce.
Are humans the only creatures
who must learn
to move with purpose?
Is that why we harp on motive,
why we think of earth
as some god's handiwork?
— Rae Armantrout, 8/28/17 issue
This is what happens when you ignore the garden. Each of these are well over 4 pounds.
Two of your head radio songs rattle around in my head often as well (The Weight & Ooh, Baby Baby...if that's the one I'm thinking of), but I have no insight there. The radio in my head is pretty random, but those songs are repeat visitors. The big zuccini photo shows a kitchen counter & pull-out cutting board much like my parents' ...same vintage no doubt? (my dad made the counters & set the tiles in 1951 I think).
ReplyDeletenext year grow the yellow squash. made some last night. it's about the best thing i cook. and flowers are good for the soul
ReplyDeleteThank you for helping people get the information they need. Great stuff as usual. Keep up the great work!!! yoga pants for women
ReplyDelete