Me, Us, We Are One

Pink and purple girl is pink and purple.

The scents on the breeze changed last week and now we believe in the springiness of this spring, as opposed to winter’s nyah-nyah, got-yer-nosiness. The forsythia, fooled once, bloom carefully. The heather has no such reservations.

I Can’t See Nothing


This'll never work!

The reason this looks wrong is I’m trying to do it right.

This morning, I started my sweet potato slips. Supposedly, you can’t plant sweet potatoes¬†any other way, except I have. Now I wonder if that was beginner’s luck or sweet potatoes taking pity on me or something. Either way, this time, I’m trying out growing the slips.

Sweet potato plants are pleasant company. Don’t worry about them, don’t pay any attention to them at all. They are the self-sufficient free-thinkers in your garden. Water them now and then and they will produce lovely vines and charming sweet potatoes. If you travel a lot during the growing season or neglect your garden shamelessly, growing sweet potatoes is for you.

Promises In the Dark

I spent my day rolling out and refrigerating croissant dough, and I am bad at it. But I am going to practice, practice, practice until I bake things both tender and flaky and have biceps like a linebacker.

Go home, snow, you're drunk.

Stubborn snow is stubborn about leaving.

For the time being, our chickens will be the only ones in the neighborhood on the outside of pastry.