5 posts tagged “garden”
- Plant things you actually want to eat, or at least enjoy in bloom form (i.e., not borage).
- Plant things that your lazy nature will not prevent you from processing as needed to eat. If you avoid buying peas in the pod at the store because they have to be shelled, do not be fooled into thinking that growing them yourself will make them somehow easier to get to the table. They do have very pretty flowers, however.
- Do not plant the tomatoes under the giant monster borage.
- Plant more strawberries, tomatoes, and basil.
- Do not plant things that will grow into behemoth prickly bushes (e.g., borage).
- It will be okay to remove perennials left over from the previous P-patcher (e.g., the overzealous lemon balm, which incidentally should not be added to salads). The Johnny Jump-Ups can stay, though.
- Don't bother planting catnip for it will be devoured by the next day.
- Pick the strawberries before the slugs get to them.
- If you cut the borage, it will bleed.
Saturday I started SIFFing, at the Egyptian. I love this theater, set in a former Masonic temple.
I’m ushering a few times again this year. I ushered at last year’s festival hoping to meet like-minded people while lurking in darkened theaters. It’s not really a make-friends kind of activity, especially for one inclined to shyness, but I actually love the whole being part-of-the-crew-with-flashlight thing. Plus, in addition to earning vouchers for free films, you usually get to see most of the films going on during your shift. This means being exposed to films to which one might not otherwise be drawn.
Saturday’s shift started with A Man’s Job. I’ll just say that a sad Finnish film about a reluctant male prostitute is not exactly my cup of tea. After about 25 minutes I decided to sit this one out, found a cozy spot in the dim inner lobby, and started plotting out my film choices for the next three weeks.
In addition to words like “an unlikely career as a male prostitute opens up for Juha when he is laid off from the job he needed to support three young children and a depressed wife,” here are some words and phrases that are likely to scare me away from a film: stern family, horrific, seeks answers in drugs, nasty homicide, devastating consequences, suicide shatters the stasis... I know those kinds of films are going to be disturbing, and I am an unapologetic escapist when it comes to my movie choices.
On the other hand, I am attracted to these kinds of phrases:
- Beautifully photographed fable
- Gentle coming of age comedy
- Camp epic
- Oddball new girl
- Genre-busting fantasy-romance-horror
- Meditative, cartoonesque sketch
- A small village gets its panties in a twist when an elderly widow opens a lingerie boutique
- Preceded by the short film
- A magical blend of “Monsters Inc.” and Hayao Miyazaki
- Mountain bike ballet
- Sepia-toned homage to 1950s space operas
- The Russian Amèlie
This last phrase was in the description of Mermaid, which was the second film to overlap my first ushering shift. Mermaid was not Amèlie. It was a beautiful film, however. The similarities included lonely, introverted, highly imaginative young woman with an atypical socialization, a goldfish, a community of characters (though I found those in Mermaid to be less likeable than those in Amèlie), romantic awakening, walking and subway journeys around her city (Moscow). Mermaid’s Alisa has actual magical powers (if she wishes for something hard enough, it will happen) which are used destructively as a child, protectively as a young woman. She reads the signs within signs and finds and renders moments of whimsical joy into an otherwise depressing existence. There are many magical moments in the film, but overall it was quite sad. I actually missed the ending because another usher decided we needed to rally for ballot collection right at that moment, but I think it might have been tragic. In any case, I highly recommend Mermaid for anyone who might also be attracted by the words “fanciful urban fairy tale,” but go without the expectations of Amèlie’s feel-goodedness and the beauty of Paris, and prepare to be saddened.
Emerging from the theater into a glorious blue-sky day, I decided to head on over to Folklife after hitting the SIFF box office downtown. At the Seattle Center, I made the mistake of trying to cut across (instead of going around the outskirts of) Folklife to meet my brother and sister-in-law. It was so crowded, I couldn’t enjoy being there to hear music.
Here is a photo of the trash can need the roasted corn vendor, which is right next to the aloo chole vendor from whom I bought lunch/dinner.
After about an hour of wading through the oppressive crowds in search of a comfortable spot for listening, I decided to head on over to Ballard for the evening, first popping into Easy Street Records. Before leaving the festival, I watched the sessioning bluegrass musicians outside of the opera house on the edge of the Seattle Center grounds. The crowd here was thin and the impromptu music was wonderful. Then, after spending about 20 minutes and two hours wages in Easy Street, I hopped on the bus for Ballard, where I next hit Sonic Boom. While there, my brother called to make sure I wasn't involved in the shooting at Folklife. Yikes! I had been in the vicinity about half an hour before the incident occurred. This kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen in Seattle. I was glad to be off in Ballard.
My officemate's band, the Morning Glories, were quite good, and it was their first gig ever. I recognized the fiddle player as the banjo player busking at the U District farmers’ market early last month (though he played banjo for only one tune this evening). Mr. Spot's Chai House was as yummy as the music.
Sunday
- I awoke to find a cryptic voicemail from someone with an androgynous voice asking when his or her baby would be showing up. At 4:40 a.m. Wrong number, lady/dude.
- One-armed dance class was strange. I fear further imbalances doing only one side full-out.
- After class, walked with classmate/Wake dancer Jenny to the farmers’ market. She is so nice! I hope we will become better friends.
- Back home, while icing the right shoulder, I was able to navigate a bowl of arugula with a fork in the left hand. Awkwardly, but adequately.
- Planted basil: large-leaf Italian, opal (purple-leaf) and cinnamon basil (such fragrance!). My P-patch is booming now.
Speaking of Amèlie, I think I might need a gnome, like this one in a neighbor's patch:
- Strolled up one of the prettiest, quietest streets in my neighborhood, the one I wanted to I lived on. Heard the wind in the trees.
- Dinner of fettucine with fresh young garlic, tomato, and basil lightly sauteed in olive oil, topped with maple-smoked cheddar (not proper pasta cheese but that’s all I had on hand) and another salad of baby greens including dandelion leaves weeded from my own garden (eaten with the right hand this time). Two glasses of rosé and a quiet song and good sleep set in.
Monday
Girl cat plucks at sheet
Feed me now! she beckons, so
Sleep is put to rest.
Oh happy discovery: It is possible to read while moving on a machine in the fitness room. This will do wonders for my reading habit. Slim hardcovers seem to work best per print size and ability to lay flat on the reading ledge. Speaking of Amèlie, for soundtrack, Yann Tiersen works well with Jonathan Carroll.
This afternoon I made a half-hearted attempt to tidy up, singing (very badly) along with The Virginian and drinking a Moose Drool, feeling like a lush since I’ll also be having a beer with Karen tonight after the movies (including Dust, for which I am about to be late -- I will have a dust-related activity after all! followed by Milky Way). And then I get to write the work paper I will have successfully procrastinated all weekend. Ugg.
Postscript from the final throes of procrastination:
Dust was not as interesting as I had hoped. Milky Way was, and also a little unsettling. If I write more, I'll never get to my homework, so I'll leave it at that.
and the spearmint has been colonized by aphids.
Recent purchases:
I'm dying to go out and play in the dirt, but it's chilly and the clouds don't look like they've quite decided to stop drizzling yet. Not quite yet. Well, maybe. And there are birds and blooming trees outside my window, and a few fledging herbs waiting to be planted and I've been awake for three hours now, waiting to plant them.
I have a P-patch! Today was the day we drew lots and learned about composting, the worm bin, keepin’ it organic, and other guidelines of the P-patches my compartmentominium community thoughtfully included among its amenities. I’m so excited! A wee garden!
My patch is only about 1 ½ square yards, but in a sunny spot, and came already equipped with garlic chives, rosemary, a very robust lemon balm bush, and the dried stalks of last year’s basil, which I’m hoping means seeds. It now also has a mature miniature rose bush transplanted from the patch of one of my neighbors, who didn’t want to deal with the thorns. I pruned it and gave it lots of water and hope it survives the move.
Late this afternoon I took the bus to City People’s Garden Shop and brought back baby plants of lavender, sweet pea, thyme, red chard, strawberry, and spearmint (to grow indoors, since it is reputed to like full shade and my neighbors warned me about the hazards of setting mint loose in one’s patch), as well as gardening gloves, a bamboo U-shaped trellis for the peas, and “Black Gold.” It amused me no end to be boarding the bus with a backpack full of worm poop.
I can’t wait to get digging tomorrow!
Also, I volunteered to be one of the worm bin caretakers. Required reading:
