Posts Tagged ‘gardenlove’

erie

Today con­sisted of gar­den­ing, going to a farm stand a few miles away and buy­ing spring greens and straw­ber­ries on the honor sys­tem, dri­ving around farm land, eat­ing local greens on the back porch while Mr. Kitty lounged and looked pleased, and some more gar­den­ing. All the while, a back­drop of amaz­ing bil­lowy clouds set off the snow­caps still show­ing on the moun­tains to the west. Erie is pretty good place to live…

Billowy clouds hanging to the west of the Erie farmland:

Posted: June 5th, 2010
Categories: Daily, things i like
Tags: , , ,
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life like weeds

Life Like Weeds
Mod­est Mouse

in this life like weeds

And in the places you go, you’ll see the place where you’re from.
And in the faces you meet, you’ll see the place where you’ll die.
And on the day that you die, you’ll see the peo­ple you met.
And in the faces you see, you’ll see just who you’ve been.

in this life like weeds

In this life like weeds, in this life like weeds.
Eyes need us to see, hearts need us to bleed.
In this life like weeds, you’re a rock to me.
I know where you’re from, but where do you belong?
In this life like weeds, you’re the dirt I’ll breath.
In this life like weeds, you’re a rock to me.

in this life like weeds

All this talk­ing all the time and the air fills up, up, up.
Until there’s noth­ing left to breathe,
And you think you feel most every­thing.
And we know that our hearts are just made out of strings
To be pulled, strings to be pulled.

in this life like weeds

So you think you’ve fig­ured out every­thing,
But we know that our minds are just made out of strings
To be pulled, strings to be pulled.

in this life like weeds

All this talk­ing all the time and the air fills up, up, up.
Until there’s noth­ing left to breathe,
Up until there’s nothin left to speak.
Up until the data parts in space.

in this life like weeds

Posted: May 23rd, 2010
Categories: words to rest in
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Daringly Stupid Spring Compost Kickstart Method #7

Note: tight fit­ting lid with car­bon fil­ters rec­om­mended for steps 1–3

  1. At the height of cit­rus sea­son in mid-January, grow lazy and “for­get” to take out com­post pail for three weeks (“it’s cold!”).
  2. Dis­cover fright­en­ing black wiry mold grow­ing over grape­fruit remains, and quickly close lid of pail. Call off com­post­ing of veg­gie scraps until spring.
  3. Leave pail on counter until late March.
  4. Decide that you should not leave the pail on the counter while you go on a spring break trip to sunny Florida, just in case the con­tents of the pail decide to make a break for it while you are gone.
  5. Set the pail on the back porch for the last few snowy weeks of the year until mid-April and the start of gar­den­ing season.
  6. Grow dis­il­lu­sioned with try­ing to pull up the Lambs Ear that you planted two sum­mers ago, despite the warn­ings from Grandma Alice (“it’s like a weed! it spreads!”).
  7. Mean­der over to the com­post pail and lift the lid.
  8. Become intrigued by the foamy, mush­room­ing sub­stance inside the pail.
  9. Decide to pour the con­tents of the pail into your black com­post bin, which is full to the top of brown, dry gar­den waste from last fall.
  10. Mar­vel at the way you can still iden­tify a few car­rot tops and an onion skin at the bot­tom of a pile of sludge.
  11. Cringe at the smell waft­ing up from the anaer­o­bic pile of toxic slime.
  12. Decide to use the com­post aer­a­tor to “mix in” the slime and encour­age break­down of exist­ing brown matter.
  13. Remem­ber that your com­post bin is pre­car­i­ously bound together with zip ties, and poke the mass of dis­gust­ing­ness gently.
  14. Pull out the hose and apply water to both the bin and the pail, the lat­ter of which clearly needs to be left out in the sun to “air out”.
  15. Stir a bit more vig­or­ously, until you real­ize that flecks of vom­i­tous wretched goo have landed on your left arm.
  16. Run away quickly as an angry wasp tries to find out why you have poi­soned his home with putrid cit­rus matter.
  17. Return bro­ken lid to bin, and secure in place with heavy rock.
  18. Debate with John about whether to call the envi­ron­men­tal pro­tec­tion agency.
  19. Shower (extra soap required).
  20. Wait for your com­post to turn into a lovely, rich pile of organic goodness!
Posted: April 18th, 2010
Categories: Daily
Tags: , ,
Comments: 1 Comment.