Casa Irlanda

I am typing this while my computer balances on the bottom side of a Martinelli's Sparkling Cider box. We have no coffee table. There are no books left on our shelves. Although those, the boxes filling our living room, and the cans of primer, are the only signs that we are moving. Our pictures are still on the walls, our bed is still covered in blankets, my clothes are still strewn all over the floor, and I still caught up on my Glee fix via the internet tonight. The reality is though, we are moving, soon.

I've been absent for a long time here at Casa Irlanda. I'd like to think it was because I've been so busy, actually physically busy, and just haven't had time to even look at a computer. The truth is I've probably spent more time surfin' the net in the last couple of months then in awhile. I am fully up to date on all the television ever. I am schooled in current fashion trends as well as Spring and Resort 2010. I know too much about other people's status'. It's just...I have been feeling on the verge of something for so long it didn't feel right to write about anything. Until today.

TODAY! My dad's birthday. The only one I've missed in a long long long time! Which is a bummer, and strange, and I hope his weekend is full of all the fun birthday things everyone deserves, and really I hope this birthdayness lasts all month, because I also believe everyone deserves that too...especially my dad.

TODAY! The day Mr. and Mrs. Ireland officially became homeowners. WHAT?!? Oh, and by Mr. and Mrs. I mean us, not the in-laws. And truthfully I don't think I've ever written or ever referred to ourselves as that...Mr. and Mrs. Ireland. Is that what home ownership does to you? It's not marriage that gives you that title it's home owning?

Point being, this has been in the works for a month and half now, which you will notice is when I stopped blogging. My mind and my life and my heart have been so preoccupied trying not to fall in love with a house we only wanted and didn't have. Even as each paper was signed, and each inspection came back positive (mostly), we couldn't say it was ours. Until today. Today we got the keys. Today I was carried over the threshold of the very real Casa Irlanda. Today I can write. And give four walls, and hardwood floors, and tacky wallpaper, to the title of this blog. There is a genuine Ireland Home now. Just over there a couple of miles. There is a view from our new front porch of the house we fell in love at. There is also our favorite thai place just a block away. And the park Rico used to love to run to. Also that middle school that tried to burn down, well, that's right across the street. We'll keep you posted on the rebuild.

This is just the first 6 hours of it all...and I'm already a ball of emotions. I'm going to miss the place we've spent the last 5 years at. The apartment where we became husband and wife. Where my brother lived. Where our friends have crashed when they really, really, needed a place to stay. There is a very old man that lives across the street and he has a very big garden and lovely smelling woodstove and I've never spoken to him. One time a 40ft cedar fell in our driveway. I nursed my Rico back to health here. I have the space memorized and can maneuver it in the dark, and I don't get too scared when Jesse's not here. We've fallen in love with our landlords parents who maintained the yard until just late this last summer when they finally couldn't do it anymore. We fell in love with our landlords. There is a trail behind our house that leads in one direction to water and in the other the best sledding hill in Bellingham. I finally just got my kitchen in order. I finally planted tomatoes this past summer. And now...we're leaving...and all of these wonderful things will come with us, and when we plant tomatoes next summer they will be in our yard, and when a tree falls down we're going to really be glad it didn't land on our roof, and when our friends and family need a place to stay it will be a little roomier and a lot closer to the bars, and there will be a point when I will be able to maneuver in the dark, without being scared to death (I hope).

And anyways, we've already got our first memory in our new home...

"Remember when we finally got the house and you were working a 24? And you had to take the ambulance to meet me there and get the keys? And remember how we discovered that funny light? And the Scooby Doo flag? And how you carried me over the threshold? That was rad."




Pop, fizzz...cheers!

And a very happy unbirthday...to who?

to me!

in your FACE...book.

"just got all up in vicky cristina barcelona...liked it...but is wondering why, in movies, they still turn the lights on when answering cell phones in bed. i mean, i understand old fashion telephonos cuz it's dark and you can't find the phone. but don't cell phones light up, a lot, so you can totally find them in the dark? i've never turned the light on to answer a cell phone. also why do the ladies always have perfectly curled hair as though they just rolled out of bed that way? it's more distracting then anything. especially in twilight. i do not believe that bella is the kind of girl who just gets out bed 2 hours early to curl her hair. um. this probably should've been a blog post instead of a status update. but c'mon, i'd like to see some REAL bed hair on film, all smooshed against yr forehead and sticking straight up in the back, maybe with some tangles...hrmf."

originally a facebook post that was DENIED because it was 882 characters long...which is exactly 462 characters longer than allowed. hrmf.

Rice to meet you...

Tonite for dinner I took my solo self out to the Soy House and got myself a big giant heaping serving of rice noodles, nom nom nom, with a side of spring roll all wrapped up in a rice paper wrapper and filled with MORE rice noodle! And for dessert!?!? I made myself a big pile of RICE PUDDING! mmmmmm. And while this all may sound very sarcastic. It's not. At all. This rice puddin' is damn good. mmmmawwwww.

Almond Apple Rice Puddin'

Some rice
Some unsweetened vanilla almond milk
Some vanilla
Some cinnamon
Some chunky all natural organic applesauce
Some raisins

Bring it all to a mushy boil, let it simmer FOREVER, add some more liquid if it gets dry before it's good and puddingy. I like mine chilled. Just chillin'. But it's awesome hot. That's hot.

Eat it up and get really excited and put the recipe (?) on your blog in a way so that no one will ever be able to recreate the delicious no bad stuff rice pudding you just made. Good luck suckers.

xoxo,
rice rice baby.

no big deal...

no wheat
no sugar
no clothes
no dairy
no weekend
no pork
no casein
no jewelry
no hats
no citrus
no shoes
no corn
no sausage
no alcohol
no strawberries
no scarves
no tights
no red meat
no problem.

No one wants to hear about, what you dreamt about, unless you dreamt about.....them....

Why do people blog? I began a blog because I thought (naively) that people used them as online diaries. I thought the world had needed a new place to rest their thoughts on these busy tech driven journey's. And they had found it in the blog world. I understand better now that many a blog makes many a dollar, but I thought and still do think that most of them are written by people like me. And my friend Claire. And her friend Shirley...and the like. Just for fun. Just for me, and maybe you.

Was I wrong? And more than being wrong, should I not even be here? I am wondering if blogging is supposed to be used for very specific reasons and I just didn't know the rules and here I am out here throwing my weight around... But wait! There has to be plenty of room in this crazy world (wide web) for all sorts of online narratives. I hope to utilize this strange communication technique in a whole different way when I start up my own business. It is a great business strategy. No argument there. A lot of blogs come out of business. A lot of business comes out of blogs. Many of my favorite bloggers are making some cash money by just being themselves, by sharing their ideas (incredible ones) on very specific topics that need explaining. Like fashion. And technology. And gluten free living. And medicine. This is all amazing, and I'm glad it's out there. I'm not immediately headed in that direction at all, and very specifically, at casairlanda, don't ever intend to be. And I think that's ok. I guess what is throwing me for a loop is the disingenuous blogs masked as intellectual, thoughtful, creative blogs. Hmmm...what AM I so worked up about??

I feel like a well done blog is genuine. It begins with a purpose. If that purpose is a place to just drop your thoughts off (wink wink) then by all means go forth! If that purpose is to never have a purpse, then by all means go forth! If that purpose is to sell your goods and talk about how awesome your goods are, then by all means go forth! Just do it genuinely, with heart, with passion and with all your cards on the table. But what if that purpose is just to get as many followers as you can? What if your purpose is just to mimic what others are doing (and doing with heart) in the hopes of getting a book deal or ad dollars? You become the awful millions of youtube videographers grasping for that one viral video. You bore me at that point. If I can't feel a heart beating beneath those words, even if it's a heart that only loves money, then you've lost me as one of the all important 'followers'.

Why am I ranting (babbling)? I just read a little blurb (on a blog!!!) that was pretty cut and dry as to what a blog should be. They had a strong opinion that a blog about nothing, the seinfeld of blogs, is pointless. Pointless because who would want to follow a blog about you and your silly day to day observations? Who would ever comment on a blog that had nothing to do with them? And this is what freaked me out. I had never heard anyone describing blogging as such a straight forward popularity contest. Is that what this is? If so, I am back in high school and I am sitting under the stairs with just a few of my buddies and nobody else is paying any attention, and well, we are just NOT that popular. And we are having the most fun ever. And if I ever think of some amazingly point driven, book worthy, comment worthy blog idea maybe I'll understand what that all means...but for now I'm content with writing about nothing, with no focus or theme. That's why I started, that's why I've maintained. Sure nobody wants to read about something that doesn't pertain to them. In turn though, I don't want to write about anything that doesn't pertain to me...so right now you are getting a face full of blog rant and tomorrow maybe a little promised Ralph Maccio insight...who knows! who cares? nobody, and that's awesome.

"part of me will know deep down that i am pretty cool

the part of me that knows i never cared for being cool"

kimya dawson
being cool

Anne Heche has children. shiver.

This is an interview on David Letterman with Anne Heche, from well, right now. I found it so unbelievably irritating I had to share it with you. Immediately. I have never seen a celebrity act so abrasive. Fingernails across a chalkboard, fork against an empty plate, you know...blech. My ears are bleeding. I dare you to make it all the way through. Although, the spanx, pasty thigh, and David cringing make it sort of worth it...
This interview has officially taken her off my 'yr boring i kinda hate you' list and onto my 'you may just be the devil' list. Her and John and Kate Gosselin. And if you don't know who they are, well, don't worry about.

(hey brother! help me make the video fit the screeny thanks smart computer one!)

every 48 hours they disappear, and sometimes it happens out of nowhere in the middle of the nite or important events and yr soul mates and stuff...

time travelers wife?

nope.

another 24 hour shift...sigh.


(thanks little bro, for the pic. i can't wait for new zealand. you+camera+lord of the rings=whaaaa????)

(3) Days of Summer, (500) Things I Hate About You, (10th) Rock from the Sun...

This means something......

"Oh, but that's nonsense. Flowers can't talk."

'there is a baby monster hiding near me.'

'oh look it's grandpa monster!'

'i'm from the desert. i hope i don't die.'

'i am curly but i won't eat you.'

'i am safe and warm.'

'i am very green.'

'i am spiky in a soft and unassuming way.'

'i am PURPLE!'

'we are having a nice little party.'

instead of sheep and lullabies.

In the heat
there is no time
for diets
or errands ran.
The rooms should
be cluttered
with remnants
of hours spent,
passed quickly
and filled
with nothing
but the heat
of

summer days.

cook until all sides are browned and meat is heated all the way through.

Tonite:

Clear

70°F
Feels Like
70°F

Updated: Jul 28 12:25 a.m. PT!!!!!!!!!


and tomorrow? how about more of the same! I don't know whether to be ecstatic or miserable...I am truly torn. On one hand, if I'm going to be a total insomniac it might as well be nice out, and my skin sure does love being tan, and well being hot is preferable to being cold...on the other hand, it's soooo hot inside the house, inside the work, inside the everywhere, and i am sticky...

Tomorrow:

Sunny High
88°F

Oh what a perfect day...I'm glad I spent it with you.

yesterday i had to work. and then i was suffering from horrible lady ailments. and then i arrived home to an empty house. and then jesse came home. and he came home with flowers. for me. big giant sunflowers. and he was so happy. and then i was so happy. and then we grilled some skagit valley hamburger patties. and i made a burger using lettuce as the bun. and it was good cause the meat was so good. and there were pickles. and jesse ate a real burger. and he was happy again. we also had a greek salad. we also ate our first tomato. one tiny little husky red. we cut it in half. and toasted each other on a job well done. one delicious little tomato. i can't wait for the rest to catch up. or rather, ketchup.

ragout de palourde de cordon bleu

That means...BLUE RIBBON CLAM CHOWDER, son.
Ladies and gentlemen, our award winning clam chowder. Photo from thrashermagazine.com.

A haiku for you, chowder team:

The clams came in cans
oh! blood, sweat, and tarragon
victoriously!

Me Gusta Tejas!

today's facts so far:

1. I stayed up really really really late reading last nite and didn't eat breakfast until just now.
2. My breakfast was AWESOME: one wedge of Laughing Cow Garlic and Herb cheese, Bowl of fresh blueberries, and a frozen hashbrown in the style of McDonalds with lots and lots of ketchup. All that was missing was a piece of bacon or a really good chicken sausage...mmmm.
3.MENDING IS BETTER THAN ENDING....have you visited me yet?
4. I need to water my tomatoes. now.
5. I'm going to go do that...

There but for the grace of god, go I.

Today's facts so far:

1. I actually cried a little when I left my husband in Seattle when I had to come back to go to work. Boy, I either really love him, or I am really pms style. Or maybe both.
2. I was openly, and publicly, cranky today. If you know me you know this is rare. (the publicly part, not the cranky part *wink*)
3. Davinci Bakery on Greenwood in Seattle is a little slice of gluten free heaven. Even though the workers never laugh, or smile, or play into my conversation starters.
4. It's fun having a boss that can't eat the same stuff you can't eat. Yeah gf fairhaven pizza for dinner at work!
5. Seriously. All I did today was eat gf treats. Gf Breaky Sandwich, GF Pizza, GF lemon bar!
6. Oh yeah, I also entered a Chowder bowl with previously mentioned husband and our best buddy Aaron.
7. Oh yeah, Sis in Law also entered.
8. Oh yeah, only one other person entered.
9. Oh yeah, it was only the second time I've ever made chowder.
10. Oh yeah, WE WON!!!!!!!!
11. Dude. Remember how earlier in life I got a really short hair cut, and then I read my favorite blog and she had cut her hair in the exact same style? And then did you go over to my other blog Mending is Better than Ending? And learn that I am off on a three month adventure of not buying clothes or accessories? Well, it turns out me and imaginary blog friend shared a brain again for she has proclaimed no clothes shopping for a few months also. It's too bad that our friendship is a secret. To her.
12. I had a wardrobe change at work today. Giant oversize found sunglasses to understated white frame sunglasses. Blam! Half way through serving italian sodas at the outdoor movie tonite I got itchy for a change. Blam! Always keep extra accesories in your purse.
13. As exhausting as it was, seeing sis in law and bro in law is always good times. good times with gin on the rocks, skaters, and chowda.
14. There is this lady on SNL who always acts the same. I use the term 'act' loosely.
15. Perms?
16. Am I growing my hair out?
17. I HAVE A RED TOMATO. sweet.
18. "There but for the grace of god, go I." these words had very little meaning to me until Mr. Obama's NAACP speech he gave a few days ago. Something about the delivery, something about the sincerity, something about the genuine awe in which he uttered those words...which is really the only way those words should be uttered. In awe. Humble awe. (the god part is weird right? i don't even really notice it, in the way it was intended to be. i do that a lot, i kind of read 'god' not literally. more symbolically as something greater than yourself, but not completely out of your control. hmmm.)
19. Four way stop no you go, no you go, no you go guy. You are one of us.

Just dance...

One of my most favorite persons in the world got married last weekend...in Winthrop. A lone cowboy of a tourist town on the other side of the mountains. The road was long, the days were hot. And every single second was filled with bliss...

Take a backwards journey of my weekend.

end of the evening dance party for two...my mother and the bride. I've known the bride since we were ten, we grew up together, in all senses of the word.
we got our dance faces on.
This is us. The three goddesses. The three amigos from way back when. The bride in white, all the way from Atlanta in yellow, and me. Atlanta and I have been friends since the summer before fourth grade. I can't remember the last time the three of us had this much fun together...
FOOD!
I think this picture speaks for itself.
Preparations. That's Atlanta applying the makeup...in all the years I've known the bride she's never worn any makeup besides the rare glitter and mascara.

Atlanta and I and our pre everything ritual. Champagne, curlers, and a towel...if only every day could start that way.
The road in...80 degrees and snow on the ground. We were like kids again...


It was so amazing to have my old friend in town from Atlanta this weekend. We giggled, we gossiped, we stayed up late, we even shared head phones to dance our way down a dirt road in the middle of the nite. And our lovely bride. When we were all growing up we would have sleepovers at the brides house. We always shared a bed and she was always in the middle. I got married two years ago, and Atlanta is waiting for a ring, so fittingly our bride got married right in the middle...just the way we like it.

amuse bouche...

Amuse Bouche literally translates to 'mouth amuser', and it is used as a tease from the chef. A very small bit of food served before a meal. A bite of something that encapsulates what is about to happen with the full meal. Your mouth starts watering for more almost immediately.

So here you are sirs, my amuse bouche, or rather amuse oeil, an 'eye amuser'. Just a tiny teaser into what happened this weekend...just a taste of what is to come.

...everyone would be in love with me.

I just heard, on my not-so-secret favorite talk radio program TBTL, that one Mr. Oscar G. Mayer has passed away at the age of 95. He was the third Oscar Mayer to be chairman of everyone's favorite wiener company.

In honor of his passing TBTL played a little ditty from comedian David Sedaris doing the classic "Bologna has a first name..." jingle, as Billie Holiday. Ahem. I almost stopped the car in the middle of the road I was laughing so hard, out loud, by myself, to a recording from an appearance on a late nite show being replayed on a talk radio show of a jingle being sang by a comedian doing an impression of Billie Holiday. Thank you sirs.



Here's to you Mr. Oscar G. Mayer, thank you for your bologna.

And here's to you Mr. David Sedaris for having the kind of childhood that produces such funny, funny, funny.

OMG

i have so much to do and i cannot for the life of me get off of the computer. somebody unplug me, fast.

a compromising position. a composition.

edit: the first is a painting by Cy Twombly. rad.
the second is a photo of my lovely gma-in-law in Iowa, by me.

SUPERBUZZY

New Kitchen?

Sexy lounge?

New living room?

Future (very future, mind yr own business sirs) kids room? (it's alice!!!!)

oh dear. thank you superbuzzy.com for making me more insane than I already am. And thank you dumb computer for crashing and not loading the other 2 million fabric samples I tried to load. totes ridic.

Post #101

I'm a grown up!

Today's facts so far:

1. This is post number 101. The first journal that hasn't slowly faded away.
2. I got the job. I still have to call and accept formally, but I got it. Nice to meet you, I am the new assistant manager at the park location. The place where my love affair began. Where the entire winter I will be able to pull shots while watching the storms come through the bay. A place where people will want to come visit me. Where I will have more responsibility, the kind I like.
3. You only realize how much salt they add to deli meat when you get the kind without any. woah.
4. I am going to go for a run in my new shorts that my mother in law bought me. Despite what they told you, everyone is watching you and what you wear is important.
5. despite the moaning and groaning I really enjoyed putting together our tax information, it was like a school project with a much more fulfilling ending.
6. we are going to be home owners.
7. can we then be dog owners? please.
8. one of these:


9. and one of these:
10. a sunny fourth? i'll believe it when i see it.

A rococo zephyr...

That is something that has been said before, actually sung, by one Bill Callahan. Most recently he sang it to me at the Triple Door.

Jesse and I had received a gift certificate to the Triple Door for our wedding two years ago and have been waiting for the perfect show to use it on. The Triple Door is a dinner theatre sort of place that serves pan asian/thai fusion mumbo jumbo and hosts a huge variety of musical shows. From the Squirrel Nut Zippers, to accordian heroes, to music snob mainstays like Bill Callahan. My brother had been trying to drill it into our heads for years how amazing this artist was, and how much we would fall in love with him. But it took until just this last year for us to realize this, and in the throws of our love affair he scheduled a show at the Triple Door and there it was! Our show, the show to finally use our wedding gift.

We'd been looking forward to this for months. But something happened when I woke up Saturday morning. I got up on the wrong side of the bed as they say. I was one big pile of grumpy. This continued through the afternoon. And then the worse thing that could ever happen to a grumpy me happened. We arrived in Seattle late, and hungry, and no time for a real meal. Extra grumpy. And then!!! J forgot the gift certificate, which was no big deal in reality. But for hungry grumpy me this was devastating. We grabbed quick (and VERY mediocre) appetizers in the Triple Door lounge in the 20 minutes before the doors opened. We met friends in line, found our way to our wonderful seats, ordered drinks, had amazing conversation, and sat through a funny, quirky, electric meets folk band from New Zealand called The Bachelorettes. My grumpiness was a distant memory. And when the lights dimmed again the crowd hushed, and mr. Bill Callahan stepped on stage.

A cellist seated to his right, a violinist to the right of him, another guitarist to the left and in the usual space was a drummer. Mr. Callahan in ranch boots, a thick head of blonde hair, and well fitting jeans scuffled his booted feet to the beat. And then he opened his mouth. And my heart melted. You know when you see a musician live and they destroy even the amazingness found on the recorded versions? When an artist just kills it? An artist you know is amazing, you were waiting for the greatness, and then they just go so far beyond what you expected, in the best way possible? That is what happened on Saturday night. That is what Bill Callahan did. He opened with Diamond Dancer, listen to it now, and went straight into Sycamore, ok now listen to this, and went through the set playing everyones favorites with the sort of ease and grace and beauty you see when an athlete is in the zone. This is just what he does, without having to think about it, he was born to do this. His voice is sincere and deep, you want him to tell you stories forever. He moves strangely, yet fittingly for the music. And the musicians he was playing with were almost as magical. The deep beat of the cello mingling with the depth of his voice. And the playful melancholy of the violin dancing in and out of every song. He was funny between songs. And the crowd was appreciative of every second, which in a town of nary a foot tap to even the greatest of bands, this meant a lot. It was just a really great show.

Once again my grumpiness was proven wrong. It always is. I've never been grumpy for a good reason. And I always feel sheepish after the fact. Even though I was starving by the end of the evening it was worth every second.

Thank you Mr. Callahan, you were a great wedding gift.

And thank you Mr. Ireland, for loving me even in my grumpiest moments, and for reassuring me all day that the show was going to be worth it. It was.

i am going to eat you up and when i'm done i'm going to take a nap.

I really just wanted to write that sentence down. It is not meant to be dirty, so get your face out of the gutter sirs. Does that ever happen to you? A sentence just starts rolling around in your head, nonsense, but it doesn't go away. Like a song. A song that has never been written. It happens to me a lot. We used to play a game in high school, my friends and I, created by Cori. It was called "Say something you've never said before", the name of the game is the only rule. Asparagus tickles fancy little mangroves. Never said that before. But now I have and I am darn glad about it.

This is how I think I should live my life always. On instinct maybe? Or rather, on spontaneity. Think it, do it. A little research, and a few seconds of thought is ok as well. I had to Google "mangroves" to make sure I didn't just make it up, or that it wasn't some sort of inappropriate word. And you know what? Now I know that Mangroves are trees or shrubs that grow in saline conditions. On the edge of salty waters. It can be a specific plant, or it can refer to all of the plants that grow in these conditions. The entire 'plant assamblage' is called a Mangal. Mangroves are beautiful and defy all of my thoughts of lush plant life. They require sediments and salt and a lot ofwave movement. They need not clean, slowly flowing, refreshing environments. They are highly adaptable. They are mysterious. They make coastal nooks and cranny's wonderful curious adventure worthy spaces. They are the things kids dreams (nightmares) are made of.

Not a bad place I ended up, and all because I needed to get something out of my head.

un caso clarisimo.

today's facts so far:

1. yep. it's an open and shut case for certain.

2. I closed the shop down tonite, and in 5 hours I'll open it back up again. It will be a glorious day when the opening and closing will be of my own shop. For now, it pays the rent. Or at least it pays for my shoes.

3. gf mac and cheese, dinner at 11:30. healthy.

4. sleepy.

5. ZZZzzz

By Hand...

"By hand. Everything used to be made by hand. Nobody in 1750 would have said, "This skirt was hand-made." Wouldn't have made any sense. "By hand" is what is called a "retronym." When something comes along that casts its predecessor in a new light, first the new thing and then the old thing get renamed. So we have "acoustic guitars," and "electric guitars," where before we only had "guitars." All ships were sailing ships, all furniture was made by craftsmen-not necessarily competent ones, of course. Just because it's old doesn't mean it was any good to begin with; merely that it has transcended the random disasters that visit all material goods, and their owners, too. History is written by the victors, and our image of the past is formed by the people and things that survived." -David Lance Goines

I am speechless. I have found amazing things at our local thrift stores before. Ikat summer dresses, italian leather combat boots, our couch, giant wooden framed photo of mt. fuji, a desk, our amazing desk turned buffet...so many, too many things to count or list. But nothing has compared to this gem. This made my stomach tingle and my heart race, and once I realized what I had I held it under my protective arm as I lurked out of the store, feeling as though I had stolen something...but I hadn't. I paid for it, a whole $9.99. As far as retail therapy sessions are concerned, this was a major break through.

You say tomato, I say 'holy crap I didn't kill anything, yet!'

Marigold party, chilling with the Allysum, all of which I planted with my mystery dahlia bulbs that I really didn't think were going to do anything at all and I couldn't bare to look at a pot only filled with dirt and I didn't want to be sad when they really didn't do anything. But they did something! And that's them, the little green spikey leaves playing peek-a-boo between the Marigolds in the center there, see them? They are real. Also say hello to the leaves of one of my basils, which we had on pasta on Wednesday night. om nom nom.

random pot of flowers from my favorite customer (my surrogate grandpa, he leaves me plant goodies by my car, he gave me the dahlia bulbs)...I had no idea that the little green leafy things were going to produce such lovely little flowers.

my succulents reaching for the sky.

A peek (peak?) of my rosemary, and one of two of my new solar powered lights.

Linaria, licorice plant, and mystery plant from surrogate grandpa. My first hanging basket that I planted myself.

My big ball of love, Marigold (he's got a brother plant down the box a ways). And an over achieving linaria, I think she may be trying to find her sisters....

My surprise linaria! Hello, striation! Hello, violet! Hello, obsessed with linaria!

Some more over achieving linaria, and towering over everything, it looks like trees in the background, is my oregano...

At last, my 'maters. So happy, freshly groomed, freshly calcified (eggs shells!), freshly fertilized (organic!)...6 little green 'maters and counting. In order of appearance, Health Kick Tomatoes (extra lycopene, wierd right?), lovely Julieta Tomatoes (like small romas I guess, super yums), and the Husky Cherry Reds (my first tomato producer and the one I expected to do the best, with a name like Husky right?)....in the distance you can see the wall flowers that surrogate grandpa gave me. They almost didn't make it, I'm still nurturing them back to life.

My first tomato. Hello beautiful.



5 points if you can spot my funny and sort of fitting spelling mistake. (ironic? i guess sort of.) Ok, so it's only funny to me, cause I meant to use the word, as it is spelled, in a different part of that sentence and ended up not using it but ended up using a different spelling and meaning of the word in this part of the sentence but I didn't change the spelling so it's funny. to me. 12 pts if you think its funny too.