Yesterday afternoon when I was out pounding in stakes and tying up the tomato plants I checked on that little green sprout and, yup, it's a nasturtium. I can tell because of the distinctive leaf shape. This one is the vanguard but Lala gave me the rest of her seeds and I planted them all so (fingers crossed) there'll be a whole row of them along the back edge of the garden pretty soon. There's a row of tiny green blips all along there and some of them have to be nasturtiums, don't they? I don't think the $#&^% chipmunks could have eaten them all. Speaking of chipmunks, they've discovered that they can jump onto the back birdfeeder from the top of the retaining wall and they aren't heavy enough to close the squirrel guard of the feeder. Durwood noticed that on Monday so I adjusted the springs and hooks to the most sensitive setting and still they can dine on the seed with impunity. And I caught one of them scaling the inside of the 3' tall fence of chicken wire I have around my buttercrunch lettuces to nibble the leaves and dig in the dirt, the little bastards. Now it's war.
I got a package yesterday. From Knit Picks. With the cotton/linen yarn I ordered from their yarn sale and the cable and tips I bought just because I absolutely love them. If I was smart I'd just guts up and buy the whole set of them for sixty bucks and get it over with. (hmm, maybe my beloved children and their spouses [spice?] will go together and get Mom a set of Knit Picks Caspian circulars for Christmas, or the rainbow ones, I don't care, I just love the pointy tips and flexible cables.) As far as the yarn goes, I've never knitted with linen so I thought a few discounted skeins in neutral colors would be good for dishcloth making (I have a pattern in mind for the knitting guild Xmas exchange so I might as well get that made, right?) and there are a few (dozen) scarf/shawlette patterns I'd like to make so it won't go to waste. I like the names of them--the palest gray is whisker, the medium gray is gosling, the medium brown is cashew, the white is swan, and the black is... well, black, I guess they can't be brilliant in the naming department all the time.
June 25--Iran, Khurasan, Ewer. There was a hollow metallic sound when Gabe drove the shovel into the dirt and he cursed a little. He was digging a hole to plant a linden tree and couldn't believe the amount of stuff he had found. Rocks, he had found a pail full of rocks. Broken bricks and chunks of concrete made it hard to get a rhythm going and he had to keep stopping to pick out broken glass, he had just about filled a coffee can with broken glass. He had called Diggers Hotline last week so he didn't need to worry about hitting a gas line or buried electric lines but where was all this junk coming from. "Digging a hole?" said a voice behind him. He half-turned, "No, Jim, I'm reopening the gold mine." He shook his head at his neighbor's perpetual grasp of the obvious. "Actually I'm planting a tree in this hole but I keep coming up with all this trash." Jim tapped out his pipe on the railroad tie retaining wall. "Well, that's because this whole block used to be a landfill. When I was a kid we used to ride our bikes up here to dig up pop bottles to redeem for nickles."
Funny. We do live on an old landfill and constantly find broken glass in the garden and slabs of broken cement a foot down when we want to drive in stakes or birdfeeder crooks. It's hard to put things where I want them sometimes. It's another overcast day but it's a bit cooler, no less humid though. We seem to be caught in a weather rut and I'm hoping that our neighbors who're out in Wyoming and Yellowstone aren't getting rained on too much. Off to the SCUBA mines for the day and then to the City Band concert in the park. Should be fun. Hasta la vista, babies.