Moby has my robe, Eleanor the sun. All is well.
Bulbs have been interred. Alliums and irises and shallots and crocuses, in hopes of spring.
Not that I'm all that eager of spring at the moment. In five months or so, I surely will be, and time keeps speeding up, as I slow down. At least I look forward to less digging, more early flowers. Leaving in the onions, green and yellow, to return as they see fit next year. Likewise the potatoes, after last year's crop of pea-sized roots, I figure I'll consider them a feature of the garden, rather than a crop.
Perhaps I will try pumpkin next summer, but I have time to consider. The raised bed is low on soil, so I'll fill it with leaves and decide in March. I'm ready for fallow season, ready to be cold and ready to snuggle down.
We did make it to the Market this morning. Swiss chard, that I will fill and cook like stuffed grape leaves. But chard leaves are softer, and sweeter, as I learned from my Kurdish co-worker long ago, whose wife (who came from the next village, but they met in the US) made them with chard. Also, I have Anaheim peppers, to roast and fill and batter into chile relleños. With four days off in a row, I have a chance of using fresh ingredients, instead of letting them go bad, as so often happens when I'm at work too long. Brazilian cheese balls, made with tapioca flour, kept us happy there, one with jalapeños, intensely. Cranberry orange bread from the German bakery for whenever.
At the market, avoided the cow-orker who treated me badly, who retired, and I now fail to miss. Heard her laugh a half block away. Sad thing is, she is a great nurse, and I never disliked her for herself, only for how she treated me, and her glee at being "a bitch" (her words) to others as well. We shop in the same places, we are occasional, distant, neighbors. So far, she avoids seeing me, too. And she will be back at work for the odd shift, which I dread. Paste on the fake smile, and do my job, 's't all I got.
Warm afternoon, at least for me. D is chilly. I am an unreliable thermometer.
3 comments:
Got out my old sweatshirt and an extra blanket tonight. Snuggle season is here!
Rou,
We've had the extra blankets on for the past week. It's a good thing.
When people ask me if it is cold or warm outdoors, I often tell them that I am unable to tell them as I feel these temperatures differently from most people. When it is really hot, I do not tend to complain about it so I wouldn't describe it as really hot. Likewise when it is cold.
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