Sore in the best way, I am basking in hours just spent working hard in the garden. Those strawberry roots are insidious; their sweet, meek leaves belie the havoc they're wreaking just underneath the top layer of soil. Root systems like a manic kudzu or wisteria, I found I'd neglected them too long and really had to get in there with my pitchfork and trowel. I uprooted a bunch and replanted them in a self-contained pot. We'll see what sort of success they find there, and perhaps too, I'll be able to harvest the fruit before the critters on the ground. I'm impressed with the tenacity of the greens and herbs. No matter how deathly the parsley and chives look, back they come as soon as the days warm up enough. And the kales and radicchios must groove on a cold spell, because they are looking fine out there. I think I'll put this guy in our ravioli tomorrow.
Are y'all Oscars watchers? I love the dresses most. The new format of who isn't nominated leaves something to be desired in my opinion, but then again, ever since Titanic was nominated for best picture, I've been on the outs with the MPA. I mean really, Titanic? Blech! Nonetheless, the pomp is a little bit wonderful, and we'll be tucking in to a fantastic pizza and some cocktails while nearly prostrate on the couch- a hell of a night ahead. Hats off to my mom's spirit as tonight will mark the 32th annual Oscars party she's hosted with, might I add, many of the same attendees. Go team! Mom often dons blue jean shorts, a tuxedo shirt and bow tie, passes out ballots, everyone votes, imbibes a'plenty, and she gives out prizes at the end. I love it.
