Perfect weather. I mean really. Other than the fine haze of yellow dust settled over ev.ery.thing. In fact I'm still wearing a sweatshirt, so it could be a little warmer, but as it is I am camped out on the back porch with the doors and windows wide open. Hello, spring. Here you are, after all.
The CSA that I can barely afford at the moment is completely worth it - I don't know that I'll keep picking up directly at the farm, because it's kind of a haul, but it's flippin' adorable. The farmer who runs it! Love him! He doesn't say much, but he's super sweet. And last week loaded us up with a bunch of strange vegetables I wouldn't normally touch, but they've expanded our recipe horizons and so far there's been no complaints. From the people who actually it is, anyway.
For our garden fare: there are sweet peas, which look way better than the sad few of last year. And the lettuce is sprouting, I think? Hard to tell with weeds that are also sprouting. And the whole thing needs more water, I know. Oh, and then, from the rotted pumpkin that was in the corner, there's a pumpkin patch that could take over the world . So I'll have to reign that in. But so far it's the winner, the first on the mat in this leg of the Amazing Race.
Are you watching that this season? We're three eps behind. On that and everything. But all in due time.
I'm completely antsy today. Damn hand. Haven't read a book in days. But maybe the library tomorrow. And the continued ponderance of summer break, which arrives shortly. I'm approaching it with not a shred of blind optimism; this year I'm aiming for full-fledged practicality. Like we can't afford camps every week, but maybe one or two? Or one camp and a class? Sprinkled in there to anticipate and maintain the momentum. Dare I dream. A camping trip? There's a cool-weather spot allegedly maybe 3 hours from here. An early June wedding. A possible late-summer road trip. A July ninja visit! Swimming lessons? A whole lot of uh, free time. And, you know, generally keeping everyone alive and relatively sane. Let us go forth with the least-favorite season and may we uncover any wonders it may hold.
Hand: still asleep. Killing me.