| So, Ian's summary of my journal entry
yesterday: My garden is getting
eaten by slugs! My soul feels the same way!!! | |
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| Well, it's so damn warm out
today (77 degrees) and sunny that I don't think I could harbor a bad mood
if I wanted one. Which I don't. It's been hectic at work today, but I'm
pretty jolly, overall. What a relief. Of course, on my lunchtime walk I
was sweating (I'd also forgotten my sunglasses) and uncomfortable, but it
was a good discomfort. Today reminds me of August in Indiana (I'm sure
I'm forgetting the degree of humidity, but oh well). I can't wait to see
how pretty Indiana is in the spring again. I've not seen an Indiana
spring for two whole years. Sigh. | |
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| I don't know about these slugs. I tried
tobacco, which seemed to work perfectly well for the purple pansy (no
slugs found on it last night), but didn't do shit for the dying marigold
(which was draped in tobacco - I pulled one slug off of a stem that was
covered in the stuff). My guess is that if it's tasty enough, a little
tobacco will not deter them. I bought this cocconut soap gel stuff which
I squeezed out around the dill and spinach. The lady at the Ecology
Center in Berkeley told me slugs and snails wouldn't cross it. I soaked
the tube in hot water, but it was still hard to use. Didn't move when I
watered over it, though, and it's guarranteed for 3 weeks, even in the
rain. We'll see. I worked in the daylight hours for awhile, then came
in and talked to:
- Mary Anne (actually, this call was right before I went out)
- Ian (MA handed off the phone)
- Kellie (who is stressing over wedding stuff. I'd left her a message
earlier, joking, "All your wedding troubles are now over because I bought
navy shoes! I won't clash!")
- Holly (who's working Friday night, which means we're gonna have to
drive two cars, which, besides being a waste of gas, also means I'm
missing 6 hours where I could hang out with my sister....sigh)
- David
That last one I convinced to come over and help me hunt slugs (there are
more of 'em out at night). My roommates are amazed at my determination to
keep the slugs from eating all my plants. I, for one, am suddenly
understanding all those stories about farmers losing their crops to some
pestilence....it's the most demoralizing thing, watching your little
babies get devoured. Especially when you were hoping to eat them
yourself!So, Ian's comment (see above) made me realize that it's
probably a good thing for me, going out every evening and picking slugs
out of my garden. It's a metaphor, of course. Maybe if I can control the
slugs in the garden, I can control the slugs in my life. Ugh. That was
disgustingly cheesy. So sorry. On to another topic! | |
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| The profusion under the plum tree is finally
growing. It was the same size for over a month, then suddenly it's
sending out runners. The English thyme (also under the plum) finally got
a haircut (I trimmed off the woody dead bits from last year) and I noticed
it's flowering! It has the tiniest little white flowers, so sweet. I
shared with David what Sharon told me about the plum tree: that it's an
ornamental plum tree and not for eating. I guess they're prettier than
edible ones, but David's reaction was the same as mine: Why the HELL would you plant a fruit tree you can't eat from?
It just seems counterintuitive, aethestics be damned. | |
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| I'm reading the coolest book right now. It's
called Always Coming Home and it's by Ursula K. LeGuin. I bought
it in Indiana when I cleaned out Greenwood's Half-Price Books LeGuin
section. This one is a gem. It's told through the poetry, song, stories,
histories, essays, fables and dances of a people (the Kesh) yet to come.
She does an amazing job of conveying their sense of time and place...these
people live simply, but are fully aware of stuff like computers, railways
etc. The book jumps around, and she tells you up front to read it the way
you want to. There's a narrative story called "Stonetelling", which
begins the book and continues in two other sections. There are other
cultural bits in between (stories and fables and poetry) as well as the
author's anthropological analysis of the Kesh. It's perfect. I've
bookmarked my spot in both sections, and I jump back and forth between the
two. Y'see, I always get stuck in the boring bits of books - (y'know,
where they're giving you neccessary background which turns out to be
amazingly dry); this book encourages me to skip it, read it
later. So I do. It works very well when I'm too tired to handle the
poetry, but want to read an engaging story. Of course, LeGuin makes even
the histories interesting, so it's usually not a problem. Anyway, this
book would be perfect on the 'net. You could click onto any section you
wanted....and the glossary could be accessed from the words in the
text. I just checked with Amazon, and, of course, Always
Coming Home is out of print (though they're willing to find it for
you). But I did find out that LeGuin got so caught up when writing this
book that she published it with a cassette of music and poetry of the Kesh
people. How cool. I now need that cassette, of course. The weather
here is just insanely beautiful. I'm going to sun myself in the other
room now. Have a lovely one, my friends.
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