Friday, May 22, 2009

I have no use for ruby red slippers

Hello, Internet, how are you? Miss me? Naturally you did. I will be blogging more this summer- I have not abandoned you. Promise. Also, good news: I did not fail corporations, so I will actually be able to continue as a law school blogger, not just a random malinger of others.

After a lazy, hazy, week and a half post-finals with Darwin (yes, I have seen every episode of Iron Chef ever made), I hopped a plane on Wednesday night and headed back home to work and my maniac family. Since I was flying, obviously, everything was delayed.* To ice the situation with an extra coat of awesome, on the first flight, someone in my row had the worst. gas. ever. Mmmmm. On the second, the pilot apologized over the loudspeaker for the lack of drink service to the back of the plane: "See, the plan is more wobbly back there, and it's harder to get the cart down with all this turbulence." It seems to me that we were the ones that needed the drink, but instead, we got a few delightful hours of "...seatbelts! *bam wham rattle* Please remain seated."

Yeah, it was awesome. I love flying.

Now I'm home. My first stop yesterday was to an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant. Once I got that fix, I somehow got roped into laying irrigation.


Well, not that roped. They offered me a chance to play with this toy, and I couldn't turn it down. Spikes! Twisty things! Loose dirt! I must learn what it is called, so that if I am ever asked in an interview what kind of garden implement best represents me, I will have an accurate answer.

Mind you, my family does not live in the country. We are camped out in suburbia: 2.5 kids and a dog, etc., etc. Nonetheless, my father developed a sudden fascination with gardening, and all of a sudden: bam! A dozen tomato plants, just hanging out in the back yard, with plans to plant more. A dozen tomato plants. We will be eating tomatoes until our faces fall off, and then we'll be crushed by the weight of the leftovers. The tomatoes are surrounded by the onions, partially shaded by the fruit trees, just to the right of the cilantro, and will probably crowd out the eggplant. What I'm trying to say is: the produce section? It moved to my backyard.

Yesterday's project involved several trips to the local hardware store to get just the right accouterments for irrigating the incoming bean crop. Law school does not prepare you for sitting on your butt, covered in compost, but I think I may be better at gardening than at Con Law. Now, post weeding and watering and digging, we have a nice little plot full of goodies, all of which inspire me to culinary heights I almost certainly will never actually attain.

Still, it was satisfying to actually have an answer to the bean problem, and to work with my hands. See?


This represents 1/6 of the wilderness my backyard has become. Home is nice. Excuse me, I have to go water the beans.




* At last estimate, I have taken over two dozen flights since beginning law school. Three arrived on time.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

Garden Weasel, for the win.

All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson