Bad influence...

Bad influence...

Lizzy Comet and her mom stopped me on the street this morning and told me she is going to start Suzuki violin next week.

I told her she could come down and practice on my porch anytime.

Repurposing...

Repurposing...

A couple years ago L did an extended research project on recycled art in West Africa. One of the things I learned in proofing the paper for her is the difference between recycling and repurposing. Recycling is where the original material is ground up or melted or reconstituted in some way to make into new material. Repurposing is where you take something that has served one purpose and use it for another.

This weekend I went out and bought the smallest chest freezer I could find. My fridge freezer is jam packed with applesauce and strawberry jam and blueberries, and I want to be able to add some other stuff when I see it on sale, or while it is fresh.

So today I borrowed Kevin's truck, picked up my shiny new 5CF freezer from Sears and hauled it to the basement. As I was cutting off the cardboard carton I was thinking about recycling and repurposing, and how my kids used to love big cardboard box forts, and my 2 year old next door neighbor. I went up and asked his folks, and they were all delighted. In 5 minutes dad had windows and a door cut into it and little Nahum was all smiles.

Its a cheap thrill, but its nice to be someone's hero for the day.

Supporting entrepreneurship...

Supporting entrepreneurship...

Tonight I had the wind to my back as I biked home. As I came screaming along the bike path east of 15th Street I was flagged down by Anna, Lydia and Esther. They had a wagon parked by the bike path, and I skidded to a stop, much to their delight. They had tricked out their wagon with little dandelion and creeping charlie bouquets tucked artfully in each corner bracket. The wagon was full of hand made crafts and art work. They had price lists, coupons, drawings... a pretty impressive display.

How could I pass them up? So I bought a hand-knit pouch from Anna and a picture frame from Lydia. Poor Esther - I hope she didn't feel left out.

They each gave me a 50-cent off coupon, so I got everything pictured for three bucks.

They were happy. I was happy. What a deal.

Then I came home and made my first meal out of the garden. My sage bush wintered over nicely, and has lots of new leaves. So I sauteed some up with a little garlic, and served it over pasta with a bunch of Parmesan, and a salad on the side. Yum.

Fridge art...

Fridge art...

I don't own a TV, so when I'm worn out at the end of a stressful week and it is drizzling rain, the closest thing I have to sitting blankly in front of the TV is to sit on my porch swing and watch the world go by.

Eventually that wears thin and I figure I can handle a little more excitement, so I go inside and warm up some left overs - and return to the porch swing and watch some more cars.

After an hour or so of this kind of behavior I'm ready to turn it up another notch. So I drag my fiddle and a chair out and play quietly with the practice mute on so I don't draw neighborhood ire.

After a while, my neighbor returns to her house, spots me on the front porch, and the next thing I know, Sophie Comet is running up. "I didn't know you play the violin!" So I play a little for her and then ask her if she played. "I'm not old enough yet," she informs me. I had to ask her again how old she is. "I turned six on May 30."

OK. Now we have that straight.

Anyhow, Lizzie Comet isn't far behind. She shows up with the cool art work at the top of this page. "This is for you," she says. I ask her to tell me about it, and I hear all about how this part was cut out of this other piece, and her friend gave this part to her, and this yellow thing goes in here... I'm very excited to have it and say I'll put it right up on my fridge.

The Comets are troubled by my status in life. They want to know if I'm lonely living by myself, and they don't know what to make of the idea that I'm not married. They want to know why I'm not married any more. "Its a long story," I explain. "Tell me the long story." Oh my.

Fortunately they don't stay on any one topic too long. They are surprised to hear I have kids and when I show them a picture of me with B&L they think L looks sort of familiar. But that other boy - they think maybe I am just a year or two older than him. Sorry B - I'm just telling you what they said.

Meanwhile, Lizzie is using my porch railing as a balance beam and I'm a little nervous but she can reach the porch ceiling and uses it to steady herself.

And Sophie is ready to try out the violin, so we play Twinkle Twinkle. Both of them say they are going to start violin when they get to second grade. (I'm really not trying to corrupt them - it just happens.)

And then it is almost 7:30 and they realize they had better get home because 7:30 is bed time, and they're gone almost as fast as they showed up.

Front porches beat TV every time because you never get Fridge Art from a TV.

51...

51...

After spending most of the day in my garden I took off for the golf course after supper to see how many holes I could get in before dark. If I could drop my score by 7 strokes every time I played, I'd quit my day job. I played much better this week, but I can still do better.

After my friend and I finished the first nine (that was my 51) it looked like we had time to do some of the back nine. We managed to get 7 holes in before the sun was fully down. It was a great night. On the back I parred 2 of the 7 holes. (In aiming to break 50 consistently my goal is to average just about 1 1/2 strokes over par. There are 36 strokes on each nine holes, so a 45 is consistent bogey golf. When people say, with derision, "Thats par for the course" it is kind of ironic because par is really good golf.)

I started planting my garden today. Here is what the boxes look like under construction.

And here is how it looks with the slats in place. If you blow it up, you may notice that some of the squares are a little darker. Thats because I soaked them good before putting out seeds. Of course the stuff in front are some seeds that I'm starting in doors.

I find myself a little reluctant to expose my ignorance here because I feel I "should" know this stuff - like when to plant what. Based on a variety of sources I decided I could put out a handful of frost tolerant plants (sugar snap peas, Swiss Chard, parsley, lettuce, spinach, kohlrabi, and sage). I don't really know what I'm doing, but I figure I'll learn as I go. Then in the pots in front you'll see a couple varieties of peppers (hot and sweet), cantelope, winter squash and some heirloom tomatoes that I saved from the sweetest tomato that I ever ate from the market last year.

For all I know, master gardeners who are reading this are rolling their eyes... you're welcome to teach. But better yet - I'm looking for starts of rhubarb, peppermint and raspberries, as well as hostas. I might also be able to use some native tall grasses.

One other thing I have to tell you...

As I was working, the entire neighborhood had gathered two doors down at the Comet's house. There is a 6' high fence bordering their property so I can't really see what is going on, except they have a play structure that pokes over the top. But I can hear everything.

In these days of video games and tv, I didn't know kids knew how to play like this anymore. At the top of the fort I could see the oldest girls wearing bandannas as head scarfs, and it turned out that they were all pirates - or at least sailors. There were a lot of "Ahoy Mates!" and shouts of "Land Ho!" and the voyage seemed to progressing nicely.

Then suddenly somebody yelled "Oh No! Here come the Indians!!!!!" Bedlam ensued. (OK, so they're not PC - get over it.)

It was a terrible battle:

"They're gaining on us!" "Quick, full speed ahead!" "I'm at full throttle." "No - they're too fast" "Then man the cannons." "OK" "Blam" "Pshuu" "I got one!" "On no, they're coming over the side!" "Oh, I'm hurt" "I'll help you." "Look Out!!!"

This went on for at least 10 or 15 minutes. It was simply amazing. Their imaginations were so rich, and they fed off each other like the best improv actors you'd hope to see. What a treat.