I thought of a chicken thing!†
[SUMMARY: You are so excited!]
I flipped on the TiVi Monday night and it warmed up‡ to the beginning of Wheel of Fortune. Pat was asking the contestants to tell us a little bit about themselves. The first guy wanted to say, "Hi!" to his four dogs and his wife§ and Pat asked him a couple of leading questions about the dogs.
The next contestant was a woman who mentioned her husband and kids, and Pat, tongue-in-cheek, asked if she had any pets she wanted to say, "Hi!" to.
"We have seven chickens, Pat."
"Seven chickens? What are their name? Do they have names?"
"They do, Pat. There's Kung Pao, Fricassee, Alfredo¶..."
I thought it was pretty funny.
[SUMMARY: You are so laughing!]
What's more, I thought, "Chickens! I have to remember to share that with all my blogfriends! 'Cause it's *chickens*!"
Then four hours passed and I lost it, but trying to remember where I put my Chase credit card this morning, I remembered the chicken story.#
[SUMMARY: You are so lucky!]
In other chicken news, Red, most-favoured pirate chicken of Marybeth, may be a rooster. Which would make him ineligible for city living. And Marybeth would have to send him to live on a farm.
Just like your dad did with your dog when you were four.
[SUMMARY: Euphemism?&]
And guess what? I got a lovely perfume sample in the mail from Ineke††, so perfume too!%
It's Friday. It's a good day. Keep your fingers crossed for Red.
*************
Field Notes from Paris - Ineke
Marin says: Love may not be too strong a word.
It's funny because this evolves in my head as something maybe I shouldn't like and I don't know why -- like a guilty pleasure, only I can't even tell you why I'd be sheepish about it.‡‡
There's a splash of sweet lime in the beginning. Like almost all citrus, it levels out quickly and leads to the most intoxicating, elusive blend of... what? I would swear there's a touch of patchouli in there, but I can't quite catch it. It's not as earthy as some patchouli, not as dark as some patchouli and definitely not as strong as most patchouli. A patchouli of song and light?§§
Something woody, but I can't put my finger on what breed of wood. Tobacco flower, definitely -- it's one of my best scents and I can usually pick it out of a crowd. Maybe the wood is tobacco leaf. It has a sweetish tang I associate with tobacco.
The more it settles in, the more it reminds me of some of the exotic pipe tobaccos I've sniffed in my years of trying to find gifts for my father.
Then the sweeter, rounder elements mellow back in the mix and an oil slick of... leather? Salt? Clean sweat?¶¶ settles on top.
I think this smells the way I want a man to smell, but I find it not unfeminine. Maybe there's a white flower floating around, keeping it from being all horses and testosterone. In any case, it may be the perfect unisex fragrance.
Ineke says: Field notes from Paris is inspired by Ineke's halcyon days studying perfumery in Paris and Versailles. It captures the romantic, nostalgic feeling of sitting at a cafe and writing in a journal while lingering for hours over a cafe creme.
This "woody oriental" structure combines the warmth of tobacco flower and leaf$ with the vintage perfumery notes of coriander seed@, patchouli$ and tonka bean. Field Notes from Paris is an enigmatic scent with a warm, comforting presence.##
Top notes: Coriander Seed, Orange Flower, Bergamot
Middle: Tobacco Flower & Leaf, Patchouli, Cedar
Base: Tonka Bean, leather, Beeswax, Vanilla
Hans says:
Marin: "I really like this one. I probably shouldn't tell you that."
Hans: "Oh, great. Now I'm not objective. Ooooh. I like it too. It's got some spice@, like... cinnamon and... spice. And everything nice.
"You can quote me on that."
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Which sounds like the tawdry confession of a dirty little fetish.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Remember back in the day when the TiVi had to warm up -- and cool down? It kinda tickles me that my state-of-the-2006-art HDTV has to warm up like when I was a kid.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): In that order.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Hence, the Fredo blogtitle.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And tomorrow, when I'm trying to find my cookie scooper or my size 9 Addy Turbos, I'll probably run across my Chase credit card.
&FOOTNOTE (ampersanded): Actually, Marybeth does have a friend with extraurban farm space who could take Red. So not entirely a euphemism. Then again, said friend said she couldn't guarantee Red wouldn't end up as Sunday dinner. The suspense continues...
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): From whom I got the lovely A-E scent collection last year, only I can't find the blogpost to link to to remind you because they made me go to IE 2, the stone age version, at work and the search function doesn't work anymore.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): I saw the headline for this on Nathan's blog and I couldn't read it because I didn't want his review to influence me, so I've been cold and lonely and Nathanless for *weeks*.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Sheep! Like knitting! WOOT for the KNITBLOG!
§§FOOTNOTE (spin goths! SPIN!): Did you hear that? That's the sound of a thousand goths spinning in their graves.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (nod with me): These scents are TOTALLY related.
$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I'm giving myself a little leeway on mixing up sweet lime with orange blossom and bergamot, but deducting points for not recognising tonka bean. It's a wash.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Two important notes (ha! pun!) on coriander: 1) I don't have the slightest idea what coriander seed smells like, as it turns out, and 2) Hans now claims that the "spice" he was talking about was coriander seed.
##FOOTNOTE (holiday pounds): That's what I said! Not as succinctly, but surely that's what I was talking about when I said it smelled the way I'd like a man to smell.
†††FOOTNOTE ():
Showing posts with label Chickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chickens. Show all posts
Friday, December 4, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Reunion
Have you ever run into someone, say, in line at the grocery store... someone you haven't seen in ten or fifteen years?
In the two or three interruptable minutes you have, you try to catch up.†
That's how I feel right now.
It's not really that anything major has happened that anybody needs to know about. That would be easy. It's that this blog isn't about major things. This is about teeny, tiny little muses of fluff. There have been a LOT of fluff muses in the last *mumblemonthormoremumble*.
[SUMMARY: Facebook lifestyle‡ got me down.]
I really wish I could share some of the funny, witty, clever, wicked, brilliant thoughts I've had,§ but I only remember them for about four hours¶ and they're all gone now.
So let's start with knitting, since once upon a time, this was STILL A KNITBLOG.
I finally finished the last two of the six-at-once socks.# I wear them often.†† I'm mostly pleased with how they look, but I have to admit that the Shibui sock is so tightly twisted that it's noticably rough on the feet. I know they'll last longer than nice, soft socks, but I think I'll be seeking nice, soft sock yarn from here on out.
I am currently knitting a fabulous sweater‡‡ for Dr. Doom. I'm so excited about it I'm practically vibrating, but I think I'll wait until it's done so you're all surprised and stuff.
[SUMMARY: Blah blah knit blah blah blah knit knit blah.]
I get to go on an airplane next week. The payoff for being allowed to fly on company dollars is that I have to go to Houston. And answer questions from potential buyers at an auction. Two days of misery, but did I mention I get to ride an airplane?
[SUMMARY: The glamourous life of a petroleum landman.]
I gently declined to spend Thanksgiving with my family and ordered my dinner from a local gourmet market. I shopped Old Navy at noon, had some dinner and went to the Broncos game by myself.§§
TRAGIC NOTE: This dreck has taken me two days¶¶ to slog through. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I think we should all cut our losses and look at something shiny. Tomorrow may be a better day.
To make up for it, please help yourself to one free holiday song download every day in December from Amazon.com.##
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): All the while wondering if you should mention or avoid that night backstage with the tangled scrim and the masking tape.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): We can blame Facebook for part of this. Facebook sucks a lot of time out of me. I'm trying to learn to control it, but it's been a long road to recovery.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You just *know* I've had dozens of brilliant, clever thoughts.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Old... feeble...
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Though I didn't bind off loose enough and they get stuck partway up my calf and slouch there.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Despite the binding and the slouching.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And just discovered last night that in adding an inch under the arms when I put the sleeve holes on holders, I added an inch to the body of the sweater and am now trying to figure out a way to take it in by two inches that will 1) make it look like I meant to do that, and 2) be removable so he can wear it an extra year if he wants to.
§§FOOTNOTE (a fine turn of events): And have discovered that one or both of the following must happen for the Broncos to win: 1) I must go to the game by myself. 2) Van Walker can not be advertising his Bronco Slappy bandwagon fandom for his beliked Broncos on Facebook.
It has *nothing* to do with the team.
For those of you scoring at home, the Raiders should beat the Broncos by about 83 points, since I'm taking three people to that game.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (bock bock): And there aren't even any chickens.
##FOOTNOTE (murder by numbers): I'm not getting anything for this -- I just heard about it and thought I'd share.
In the two or three interruptable minutes you have, you try to catch up.†
That's how I feel right now.
It's not really that anything major has happened that anybody needs to know about. That would be easy. It's that this blog isn't about major things. This is about teeny, tiny little muses of fluff. There have been a LOT of fluff muses in the last *mumblemonthormoremumble*.
[SUMMARY: Facebook lifestyle‡ got me down.]
I really wish I could share some of the funny, witty, clever, wicked, brilliant thoughts I've had,§ but I only remember them for about four hours¶ and they're all gone now.
So let's start with knitting, since once upon a time, this was STILL A KNITBLOG.
I finally finished the last two of the six-at-once socks.# I wear them often.†† I'm mostly pleased with how they look, but I have to admit that the Shibui sock is so tightly twisted that it's noticably rough on the feet. I know they'll last longer than nice, soft socks, but I think I'll be seeking nice, soft sock yarn from here on out.
I am currently knitting a fabulous sweater‡‡ for Dr. Doom. I'm so excited about it I'm practically vibrating, but I think I'll wait until it's done so you're all surprised and stuff.
[SUMMARY: Blah blah knit blah blah blah knit knit blah.]
I get to go on an airplane next week. The payoff for being allowed to fly on company dollars is that I have to go to Houston. And answer questions from potential buyers at an auction. Two days of misery, but did I mention I get to ride an airplane?
[SUMMARY: The glamourous life of a petroleum landman.]
I gently declined to spend Thanksgiving with my family and ordered my dinner from a local gourmet market. I shopped Old Navy at noon, had some dinner and went to the Broncos game by myself.§§
TRAGIC NOTE: This dreck has taken me two days¶¶ to slog through. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I think we should all cut our losses and look at something shiny. Tomorrow may be a better day.
To make up for it, please help yourself to one free holiday song download every day in December from Amazon.com.##
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): All the while wondering if you should mention or avoid that night backstage with the tangled scrim and the masking tape.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): We can blame Facebook for part of this. Facebook sucks a lot of time out of me. I'm trying to learn to control it, but it's been a long road to recovery.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You just *know* I've had dozens of brilliant, clever thoughts.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Old... feeble...
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Though I didn't bind off loose enough and they get stuck partway up my calf and slouch there.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Despite the binding and the slouching.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And just discovered last night that in adding an inch under the arms when I put the sleeve holes on holders, I added an inch to the body of the sweater and am now trying to figure out a way to take it in by two inches that will 1) make it look like I meant to do that, and 2) be removable so he can wear it an extra year if he wants to.
§§FOOTNOTE (a fine turn of events): And have discovered that one or both of the following must happen for the Broncos to win: 1) I must go to the game by myself. 2) Van Walker can not be advertising his Bronco Slappy bandwagon fandom for his beliked Broncos on Facebook.
It has *nothing* to do with the team.
For those of you scoring at home, the Raiders should beat the Broncos by about 83 points, since I'm taking three people to that game.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (bock bock): And there aren't even any chickens.
##FOOTNOTE (murder by numbers): I'm not getting anything for this -- I just heard about it and thought I'd share.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
CHICKENS!
We haven't visited the concept of CHICKENS! in quite some time.
Hell, we haven't really had that many blogposts in quite some time. Let's remedy that now, shall we?
[SUMMARY: And by "we," I mean, "I."]
From 5280.com:
Checkin' on Them Chicks in Fort Collins
Across the nation, more than 30 cities passed ordinances that make it legal for people to keep chickens in their backyards, including Fort Collins, where one year later all the squawking over whether to pass the new law has settled into a soft, but distinct, clucking sound. Thirty-six households have since acquired chicken licenses and are apparently farming their own super-fresh eggs. And just six of the more than 14,300 calls animal-control officers received involved chickens. "Not much has happened," Bill Porter, director of animal control with the Larimer Humane Society, tells 9News . Four roosters in town upset neighbors, but those were "accidents," Porter tells the Fort Collins Coloradoan, saying the owners "thought they were buying hens as chicks only to discover they were roosters." The ordinance allows residents to keep up to six hens, regulates coops, and prohibits slaughter. Susan Orlean recently wrote about the history of chicken farming and its revival for The New Yorker (subscription required), which features video of the author with her chickens online. Orlean also took some time to answer reader questions via chat. --MdY
[SUMMARY: Hens are a peaceful lot. Roosters, not so much. There may be a lesson in this.]
From Savage Chickens:
Email chickens...
Pirate Star Wars chickens†...
Chicken moustache competition‡...
From the next block over§, as caught by my camera phone¶:
[SUMMARY: You might say we just licked the chicken#.]
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): How much geekier? None. None more geekier.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Kim, you'll be happy to know that, while Sam Elliot may not have won a Knitters' Hunk competition in recent memory, he did win the Chicken Moustache Tournament.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Where the not-evil step-brother and step-sister-in-law live with most pudgy-cute step-nephew, Noah (pictured here, resplendent in chicken regalia).
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Shakily.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Ooooh... I think we're on to something. Who needs a turducken when you can have a chickpigen?
Hell, we haven't really had that many blogposts in quite some time. Let's remedy that now, shall we?
[SUMMARY: And by "we," I mean, "I."]
From 5280.com:
Checkin' on Them Chicks in Fort Collins
Across the nation, more than 30 cities passed ordinances that make it legal for people to keep chickens in their backyards, including Fort Collins, where one year later all the squawking over whether to pass the new law has settled into a soft, but distinct, clucking sound. Thirty-six households have since acquired chicken licenses and are apparently farming their own super-fresh eggs. And just six of the more than 14,300 calls animal-control officers received involved chickens. "Not much has happened," Bill Porter, director of animal control with the Larimer Humane Society, tells 9News . Four roosters in town upset neighbors, but those were "accidents," Porter tells the Fort Collins Coloradoan, saying the owners "thought they were buying hens as chicks only to discover they were roosters." The ordinance allows residents to keep up to six hens, regulates coops, and prohibits slaughter. Susan Orlean recently wrote about the history of chicken farming and its revival for The New Yorker (subscription required), which features video of the author with her chickens online. Orlean also took some time to answer reader questions via chat. --MdY
[SUMMARY: Hens are a peaceful lot. Roosters, not so much. There may be a lesson in this.]
From Savage Chickens:
Email chickens...
Pirate Star Wars chickens†...
Chicken moustache competition‡...
From the next block over§, as caught by my camera phone¶:
[SUMMARY: You might say we just licked the chicken#.]
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): How much geekier? None. None more geekier.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Kim, you'll be happy to know that, while Sam Elliot may not have won a Knitters' Hunk competition in recent memory, he did win the Chicken Moustache Tournament.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Where the not-evil step-brother and step-sister-in-law live with most pudgy-cute step-nephew, Noah (pictured here, resplendent in chicken regalia).
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Shakily.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Ooooh... I think we're on to something. Who needs a turducken when you can have a chickpigen?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Planks to Be Walked, Chickens to Be Stalked
As many of you are aware, Saturday is National Squawk† Like a Pirate Day.
Red‡ knows.
Marybeth is getting the picture.§
CHICKENS!
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I know you think it's TALK like a pirate, but have you ever heard a chicken talk?
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): The chicken, not the chick. The chick is Marybeth.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Actually, Marybeth is giving the picture, which delights me to no end. I saw this on Facebook and was itching to steal it, then Marybeth emailed it to me and preempted any criminal activity on my part. Marybeth is my new best friend.
Red‡ knows.
Marybeth is getting the picture.§
CHICKENS!
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I know you think it's TALK like a pirate, but have you ever heard a chicken talk?
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): The chicken, not the chick. The chick is Marybeth.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Actually, Marybeth is giving the picture, which delights me to no end. I saw this on Facebook and was itching to steal it, then Marybeth emailed it to me and preempted any criminal activity on my part. Marybeth is my new best friend.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
How My Garden Grows†
I sense you are dying to know how my garden is doing.
[SUMMARY: Psychic!]
It's very kind of you to ask.
Cat for Scale really enjoys gardening with me.
EnjoyED gardening with me.
A couple of days ago, he discovered he could walk through the slats on the deck railing and cross the rooflet to the neighbour's deck.
[SUMMARY: Wait... what happened to the garden? Hey! This isn't a summary!]
Oh, the first couple of times, he walked over, sniffed around and came right back, no problem. Last night, he discovered he could walk through the slat's on the neighbour's deck railing and cross the rooflet to *their* neighbour's deck.
This led to a very funny incident‡ in which I was screaming§ "Quill! Kitty! Come here!" at the top of my lungs, then bolting out the front door to ring the neighbour's neighbour's doorbell like a demented Avon lady.
When nobody answered, I dashed home, grabbed the treat jar and went outside shaking it viciously and yelling,§ "Kitty treat! Do you want a kitty treat?"@
"Meow?" I heard. I pressed my anxious little face against the trellis separating me from my pet.
"Quill? QUILL??!?"§
"Meow?" And there he was, bumping my ankle with a look I swore said, "Why are you yelling? I'm right here. Did somebody mention kitty treats?"
So I tossed a couple of treats inside and closed the door as far as I could.¶
Because I can no longer trust him to do this:
He's going to have to wait for me to install some sort of screen to keep him home safe before he can garden with me again.
[SUMMARY: The wild beast stalked the veldt.]
Anyway, back at the garden...
cucumber buds, cucumber tendrils twining on their own leaves, baby Brandywine,
fat little jalapeno, white cucumber, baby Beefsteak, banana peppers, Lemon Drops
...a beautiful baby Slicemaster cucumber:
...and a lush, spiny, fully-grown# and harvested white cucumber.
I took a whole bunch of pictures on June 20. Then I didn't do much with them, so I took a whole new batch on August 12, thinking, "Wouldn't it be cool to do the before and after?"††
[SUMMARY: Cool is in the eye of the beholder.]
My Hammacher-Schlemmer‡‡ Upside-Down Tomato Gardens:
left planter: cilantro, white cukes, Big Rainbow tomatoes
right planter: purple basil, sweet basil, dill, banana peppers,
Beefsteak tomatoes, Lemon Drop tomatoes and Besser Cherry tomatoes
My Topsy-Turvy Upside Down Tomato Planters:
left to right: Brandywine tomatoes, Anaheim peppers, tomatillos, jalapenos, Slicemaster cukes
I sowed the cilantro June 19, so here's June 20:
...and August 12.
In the last two weeks, the tomatoes, tomatillos and herbs have doubled in size and are positively fecund.
The bees are having a field day.
There is a Slicemaster cucumber that would make John Holmes blush. It hangs, heavy and obscene, at the very bottom of the vine, where it sways lasciviously in the slightest breeze.^
There are little white spiders on one side of the cilantro and ladybugs on the other and I wonder if there'll ever be a caged death match somewhere in the middle of the crop.
[SUMMARY: Gardens make you thoughtful.]
Most important, I *finally* got a ripe tomato,§§ one of the little, round Bessers finally got as red as I figured it was going to.
Funny story: eBeth had the Besser plant labeled as an Anna Russian. I Googled all the varieties of tomatoes she started for us% and found the Anna Russian is a medium-sized, pink, heart-shaped tomato.
Imagine my surprise to get a fire engine red globe the size of a 25-cent gumball. So I took it to book club last night to ask eBeth what it might actually be, since it didn't appear to be medium-sized, pink OR heart-shaped.
Once she said it was a Besser, I rinsed it off in Jeanne's sink and popped it in my mouth. The... I... *slurp*... FLAVOUR... burst!... *grrrgle*
"Oh... that's good," I said.
"I don't believe any of us have ever heard you say that," said Annie.
I was mildly embarrassed, thinking, "Man, am I so negative nobody's ever heard me say I like anything? Or maybe it's just a vegetable thing?"
"...having never been privy to your bedroom," Annie finished.
I blushed.¶¶
"...and your eyes kinda rolled back..."
"...and you moaned..."
I *really* like fresh garden tomatoes.
Just for posterity, the houseplants are also doing well.
[SUMMARY: Show off!]
Happy to help.
p.s. -- Chickens!##
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I probably shouldn't admit this in a public forum, where people who might want to hire me may find this out, but I've always thought of it as "Marin, Marin, quite contrarin, how does your garden grow?" I was five when that started and it just stuck. For the record, it's also "Eat, drink and be Marin."
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Really funny if you're a cat. Maybe not so funny if you're a frantic cat keeper.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): At a cat I'm pretty sure is stone deaf.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): In the same tone, volume and timbre used by Swedish thrash metal frontmen. Or Animal, the muppet.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): What with the hose hooked to the kitchen faucet. It sounds ghetto, but it was either that or let my father perpetrate acts of plumbing on my house.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I was expecting miniature cucumbers -- like the gherkins in the grocery store. These are like lemons.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): In all honesty, I took new pictures because the old ones were so outdated, then the before & after inspiration hit me and I decided to pretend it was my intention all along.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): After buying these, I love Hammacher Schlemmer... truly, madly, deeply. Best customer service I've ever had from someone who wasn't going to get a tip. I'm going to buy a third planter for next year's garden.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): I may be projecting... something.
§§FOOTNOTE (here's where the worm turned): The whole reason I started gardening. I don't know what those things in the grocery store are -- perhaps some breed of bouncy ball -- but they aren't tomatoes.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): As one does.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (red cheeks): Doesn't happen that often. Let's not get used to it.
##FOOTNOTE (chicken scratch): Because a day without chickens is like a pig without a lick.
[SUMMARY: Psychic!]
It's very kind of you to ask.
Cat for Scale really enjoys gardening with me.
EnjoyED gardening with me.
A couple of days ago, he discovered he could walk through the slats on the deck railing and cross the rooflet to the neighbour's deck.
[SUMMARY: Wait... what happened to the garden? Hey! This isn't a summary!]
Oh, the first couple of times, he walked over, sniffed around and came right back, no problem. Last night, he discovered he could walk through the slat's on the neighbour's deck railing and cross the rooflet to *their* neighbour's deck.
This led to a very funny incident‡ in which I was screaming§ "Quill! Kitty! Come here!" at the top of my lungs, then bolting out the front door to ring the neighbour's neighbour's doorbell like a demented Avon lady.
When nobody answered, I dashed home, grabbed the treat jar and went outside shaking it viciously and yelling,§ "Kitty treat! Do you want a kitty treat?"@
"Meow?" I heard. I pressed my anxious little face against the trellis separating me from my pet.
"Quill? QUILL??!?"§
"Meow?" And there he was, bumping my ankle with a look I swore said, "Why are you yelling? I'm right here. Did somebody mention kitty treats?"
So I tossed a couple of treats inside and closed the door as far as I could.¶
Because I can no longer trust him to do this:
He's going to have to wait for me to install some sort of screen to keep him home safe before he can garden with me again.
[SUMMARY: The wild beast stalked the veldt.]
Anyway, back at the garden...
cucumber buds, cucumber tendrils twining on their own leaves, baby Brandywine,
fat little jalapeno, white cucumber, baby Beefsteak, banana peppers, Lemon Drops
...a beautiful baby Slicemaster cucumber:
...and a lush, spiny, fully-grown# and harvested white cucumber.
I took a whole bunch of pictures on June 20. Then I didn't do much with them, so I took a whole new batch on August 12, thinking, "Wouldn't it be cool to do the before and after?"††
[SUMMARY: Cool is in the eye of the beholder.]
My Hammacher-Schlemmer‡‡ Upside-Down Tomato Gardens:
left planter: cilantro, white cukes, Big Rainbow tomatoes
right planter: purple basil, sweet basil, dill, banana peppers,
Beefsteak tomatoes, Lemon Drop tomatoes and Besser Cherry tomatoes
My Topsy-Turvy Upside Down Tomato Planters:
left to right: Brandywine tomatoes, Anaheim peppers, tomatillos, jalapenos, Slicemaster cukes
I sowed the cilantro June 19, so here's June 20:
...and August 12.
In the last two weeks, the tomatoes, tomatillos and herbs have doubled in size and are positively fecund.
The bees are having a field day.
There is a Slicemaster cucumber that would make John Holmes blush. It hangs, heavy and obscene, at the very bottom of the vine, where it sways lasciviously in the slightest breeze.^
There are little white spiders on one side of the cilantro and ladybugs on the other and I wonder if there'll ever be a caged death match somewhere in the middle of the crop.
[SUMMARY: Gardens make you thoughtful.]
Most important, I *finally* got a ripe tomato,§§ one of the little, round Bessers finally got as red as I figured it was going to.
Funny story: eBeth had the Besser plant labeled as an Anna Russian. I Googled all the varieties of tomatoes she started for us% and found the Anna Russian is a medium-sized, pink, heart-shaped tomato.
Imagine my surprise to get a fire engine red globe the size of a 25-cent gumball. So I took it to book club last night to ask eBeth what it might actually be, since it didn't appear to be medium-sized, pink OR heart-shaped.
Once she said it was a Besser, I rinsed it off in Jeanne's sink and popped it in my mouth. The... I... *slurp*... FLAVOUR... burst!... *grrrgle*
"Oh... that's good," I said.
"I don't believe any of us have ever heard you say that," said Annie.
I was mildly embarrassed, thinking, "Man, am I so negative nobody's ever heard me say I like anything? Or maybe it's just a vegetable thing?"
"...having never been privy to your bedroom," Annie finished.
I blushed.¶¶
"...and your eyes kinda rolled back..."
"...and you moaned..."
I *really* like fresh garden tomatoes.
Just for posterity, the houseplants are also doing well.
[SUMMARY: Show off!]
Happy to help.
p.s. -- Chickens!##
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I probably shouldn't admit this in a public forum, where people who might want to hire me may find this out, but I've always thought of it as "Marin, Marin, quite contrarin, how does your garden grow?" I was five when that started and it just stuck. For the record, it's also "Eat, drink and be Marin."
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Really funny if you're a cat. Maybe not so funny if you're a frantic cat keeper.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): At a cat I'm pretty sure is stone deaf.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): In the same tone, volume and timbre used by Swedish thrash metal frontmen. Or Animal, the muppet.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): What with the hose hooked to the kitchen faucet. It sounds ghetto, but it was either that or let my father perpetrate acts of plumbing on my house.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I was expecting miniature cucumbers -- like the gherkins in the grocery store. These are like lemons.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): In all honesty, I took new pictures because the old ones were so outdated, then the before & after inspiration hit me and I decided to pretend it was my intention all along.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): After buying these, I love Hammacher Schlemmer... truly, madly, deeply. Best customer service I've ever had from someone who wasn't going to get a tip. I'm going to buy a third planter for next year's garden.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): I may be projecting... something.
§§FOOTNOTE (here's where the worm turned): The whole reason I started gardening. I don't know what those things in the grocery store are -- perhaps some breed of bouncy ball -- but they aren't tomatoes.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): As one does.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (red cheeks): Doesn't happen that often. Let's not get used to it.
##FOOTNOTE (chicken scratch): Because a day without chickens is like a pig without a lick.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
A Couple of White Chicks Sitting Around Talking About Chickens
Marin: I can't wait until Mary Beth posts pictures of freshly-delivered chicks, right out of the box.
She BETTER post pictures.
Cassandra: otherwise, you'll cut a bitch?
Marin: I'm curious as to how chickens are packed for shipping.
And, yeah, when my curiosity is thwarted, I can get fucking BREEZY.
Cassandra: ok
how much do you love me?
Marin: More than chocolate.
Cassandra: no, HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE ME
Marin: SO VERY MUCH... why?
Cassandra: Ready?
Marin: sitting down...
Cassandra: http://www.ehow.com/how_4513311_ship-chicken-express-mail.html
(the page header ALONE...)
Marin: O M G
I may love you more than chicken permits.
Cassandra: I'm SAYIN'
Marin: "Shipping chickens from one place to another is easy if you know what to do."
Cassandra: ah, would t'were it ture
Marin: I wonder how many Google hits a day "How to ship a chicken by express mail" gets.
Cassandra: "pop the chicken in the box...."
eggbid.com!
god, the interent is good
Marin: It seems like the Dark Ages when we didn't have it right here, educating us about lipstick and chicken shipping.
I think I like saying "chicken shipping" even more than I like saying "chicken permit."
Cassandra: heh
She BETTER post pictures.
Cassandra: otherwise, you'll cut a bitch?
Marin: I'm curious as to how chickens are packed for shipping.
And, yeah, when my curiosity is thwarted, I can get fucking BREEZY.
Cassandra: ok
how much do you love me?
Marin: More than chocolate.
Cassandra: no, HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE ME
Marin: SO VERY MUCH... why?
Cassandra: Ready?
Marin: sitting down...
Cassandra: http://www.ehow.com/how_4513311_ship-chicken-express-mail.html
(the page header ALONE...)
Marin: O M G
I may love you more than chicken permits.
Cassandra: I'm SAYIN'
Marin: "Shipping chickens from one place to another is easy if you know what to do."
Cassandra: ah, would t'were it ture
Marin: I wonder how many Google hits a day "How to ship a chicken by express mail" gets.
Cassandra: "pop the chicken in the box...."
eggbid.com!
god, the interent is good
Marin: It seems like the Dark Ages when we didn't have it right here, educating us about lipstick and chicken shipping.
I think I like saying "chicken shipping" even more than I like saying "chicken permit."
Cassandra: heh
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