Midget

My Mexico Midget tomato plant... has a little tomato forming already.


I am aghast and delighted.

It's like a poodle. You may think it's fussy, but it's an old breed that had undergone centuries, if not millennia of natural selection.

Stroll around the front garden.




And a peek in back.

Expiration

I got a bit sucked up in an unreliable corner of the twitterverse. With a nudge, I realized and pulled myself out. Feeling a bit better now. I much prefer real work to false hope. Neither salvation nor doom survive the specific expiration date. My skepticism held, just stretched a bit.

The garden helps. Just keeps growing.



Got asked for ID to get beer. Could have been due to the blue/purple hair. I know my face does not look younger than 30, but I would never question a cashier. Pull out my ID, say I never get asked, amused, no argument.



One day, in the hopefully not too distant future, I will be writing here a LOT. Right now, too much in the middle, can't work through any of it yet. So, I'll keep the garden records, leave a hint, get back when I can.

Cheat

I went to a church Easter party, about 5 or 6 years old. There was a jar of candies, and we could guess how many. The prize was a lovely, very real, brown/grey stuffed bunny.

I guessed right, remarkably close to the real number.

As I sat on the church steps, waiting to be picked up, holding my new cuddly, some bigger girls came up and took it from me, saying I'd cheated. They were much bigger, and I could do nothing to stop them. I got in trouble for sitting outside waiting alone to be picked up.

My mother told the priest, and the church folks got me another bunny, bright yellow. Not in any way the same, and although I tried my best to be grateful, what I really wanted was that real looking bunny back from the mean girls.

Today, I have a stuffed bunny, and a lamb, some teddy bears and a moose. Two lovely real cats.

And I still think about that lost bunny.

Being cheated sets steel in people.

Got to the Wasatch Community Garden's Plant Sale on Saturday. Two each, Mexico Midget and Roma tomato plants. Idaho blue fescue grass, bee balm, raspberries. The latter to the back garden that prefers weeds, being I suspect tree root poisoned. So, if raspberries take over, I'll call it good. Invasive vs invasive.

Knocked

Every year there is a city Neighborhood Clean Up. We put out unwanted stuff, pickers whittle down the piles, and eventually the city picks up what is left.

I found this metal basin, much rusted, but with a strange framing beauty.

Everything is blooming madly. I put in pansies, and some columbine.



Young woman asked me if anyone ever knocked over my rock balances. Sure, so do I, and birds, and strong winds... I just put them back up. She said ok. Not what she expected perhaps.

This is what we do. Lives get knocked over, we pick them up.

And France did the right thing, which leaves me with a modicum of hope.

Vive La Resistance! I wrote that in chalk on our sidewalk.

Insistence

Poppy, Iris, Iris, Veronica, Rose.



All buds and hope. But the black iris that never bloomed last year, and looked like it wouldn't this year, has grown expectant. And the rose is alive! It's ALIVE!

Despite everything, I have decided this afternoon to trust that Obama out maneuvered the conman. Knew he was in a war, accepted that there would be casualties, and set up a strategy, with fall backs and contingencies.

Woke yesterday in the early hours, ill and in a lot of pain. My upper back has been worsening, and I've done a lot, but not enough, to calm it down. I think it became a migraine by morning. Threw everything at the pain all day, ice, massage, acupuncture, drugs, exercise, ice. By bedtime, I felt appreciably better. Still tender today, need to attack it again, but finally feeling progress.

Nothing like pain to sap energy.

And now, buds. Spring is insisting.