Mary: April 2009 Archives

The weather has been so beautiful this weekend that despite exhausting myself with ivy pulling yesterday -- yes, I did buy the Cherry Garcia -- I couldn't resist picking up some herbs and seeds and doing some planting today. I needed new work gloves, and broke my vow never to buy women's work gloves again. Village Hardware never has men's gloves in size small, and the work seems so much harder if the gloves are too big. I looked again for a strong pair of women's gloves. They did have one style in heavy leather, but they only had size large. The best pair they had in my size was made out of white leather. White. White work gloves. Is this a joke? What kind of work do they think women do in leather work gloves? Prune the roses? I bought them anyway.

So, I planted some herbs in a couple of large pots outside my front door, and I planted some winter squash seeds alongside the house. Now I have things I must remember to water, but I'm better in the garden than I am in the kitchen -- I have a houseplant that I've had for 17 years -- so I'm optimistic that I'll have herbs right outside the door all summer, and a nice crop of butternut squash at summer's end.

If the universe rewards hard work, I'm going to kick back with my glass of wine and wait for the goods to roll in on freight cars. If no freight cars arrive by tomorrow morning I'll go to Safeway and buy myself a large container of Cherry Garcia. I pulled, raked, and bagged ivy for six hours today. I'm exhausted. I wore out a brand new pair of work gloves--the first and last time I'll ever buy women's work gloves--bah. It hurts to make a fist. The rest of me feels okay since the Advil kicked in. If you knew my place, you would actually notice the change. I didn't finish what I started, but I made good progress.

I cooked for myself tonight, which is something I frequently feel inspired to do and usually regret. I made an Indian dish--Aloo Ghobi. I've made this dish maybe a dozen times, and I've burned it every single time. When it comes to cooking I have attention deficit disorder: if I think I can wait five minutes before stirring something again I sit down with the laptop and twenty minutes later (if I'm lucky) I remember I have something on the stove. I can reliably make pasta and soup and that's about it. Oh, and toast--I can make toast, too. Which is apparently proof that I have sufficient skills to survive. My mother is still in the rest home following her second hip replacement surgery. She's getting occupational therapy, and recently had to demonstrate that she could make toast. If you knew my mother, you'd laugh as hard as I did. If, that is to say, you knew her history regarding toast. My mother has no more patience with cooking than I have.