the last monday in spring

Finally, some sun. And it wasn't incredibly hot, either. Plus the added bonus of a thunder and lightning display at the end of the evening, though a couple of times it felt a bit too close for comfort...

I have almost used up last week's veggies (some arugula and a head of endive still left), just in time for the next delivery this afternoon. The rest of the salad greens I put in a simple salad with some pine nuts, and I put most of the spinach into a pasta dish, wilting the spinach in the heat of the cooked pasta before adding feta, farmer cheese, freshly ground pepper, and halved tomatoes (both grape tomatoes and sungold cherry tomatoes; both, unfortunately, were not as wonderful quality as I would have hoped...). I am finishing the end of this for breakfast, and I'm still pleased with it.

The pasta and salad went to an evening of Cities & Knights of Catan, which is finally becoming clearer to me. Not that I'm good enough to plan strategy particularly well, but that might come. I did manage to get really close to winning, which was nice.

And then this morning, I find that some *&~!# has blown himself up on a bus in Jerusalem, one that had lots of schoolkids on it. At least 17 are dead, more likely with the severity of their wounds. And all the papers I check has Israel in the headlines twice: this, and the excavations of a Roman amphitheater near Tiberias. Amid chaos and destruction, people carefully uncover the past. I don't understand how they can face going on. One girl, in her teens, has been in 7 bombings in the last year. So far, the "worst" that has happened to her is shock... except all those images in her head that maybe won't ever go away. And her brother in intensive care for months, her parents by his side as much as possible.
I know I'm getting less coherent. I find myself avoiding the news, because I cannot face the horrors it brings. And in the face of these brutal realities, I cannot think of anything to help. So I now return to bandaging my heart, keeping it from bleeding from the weekly bombings as best I can, not understanding how people can do this to one another. There was even a rumor that a bomber had AIDS, the better to inflict mayhem after death, I suppose. How can the world be this way?

I am totally USELESS, or I am...

the attack banana.
a love-sick green dolphin covered in postage stamps.
a colorful snail with a powerful flashlight.
an angry spork-flinging plaid wildebeest.
a dinosaur who is too confused to plug in a desk lamp.
an orange polka-dotted piglet wearing light blue lipstick.
a pink kangaroo eating yogurt.

Where did I find this silliness?

Mood: capitulated to the meme side
d

Satisfaction

In the lesson on permutations in the algebra book I worked on, there's some creative art showing three different books, titles all readable. I chose books from reading lists for the appropriate grades, but chose ones I love, and think people should read.

Had to put in a Shakespeare play, so put in "Midsummer Night's Dream," which was the first Shakespeare play I saw performed live, which let me find out how it really *is* a comedy (I still find it wonderful to see plays performed, but incredibly difficult to read scripts). The other two are "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden," and "To Kill a Mockingbird." The artist put white roses on the former, and a bird on the latter... neither of which has anything to do with the contents of the book, per se, so it looks kinda odd...

I don't know why this is so much more satisfying than so many other things I've done in this book; perhaps because it feels subversive, encouraging kids to read stuff *I* like, and made me think...

Veggies, week 2

This week's share has:

3 heads of lettuce
1 bunch of turnip greens
1 bunch cute baby white turnips (some people got radishes again) with greens
1 bunch kale (some people got collards)
1 bunch of mixed greens
1 bag of "spicy stir fry" that includes some broccoli, garlic scapes, and a hot pepper.

I definitely feel less inundated than last week. Some of it is that there is a bit less, but some of it is knowing I can cook enough to eat it all (with a little help from my friends).

The newsletter this week has something new to think about, too: they're offering an "apple share" this year. $55 gets me nine weeks of apples, half a peck a week. Depending on how the season goes, it might include peaches, pears, and/or grapes too. (This is from a partnership with Autumn Hills Orchard in Groton.) Decisions, decisions.... could do a lot with that fruit (lots of applesauce; apples for Rosh Hashanah; apple crisp; apple pie; all those other apple dessert permutations I always say I'll make and never do, like apple slump. Ooh, or apple dumplings...). If the other kinds come in, could be a bunch of jam, too. Feel free to weigh in with opinions...

Another tidbit from the newsletter: 90% of the fossil fuels used in the food system is for packaging, transportation, and marketing. Only 10% is for the actual growing.

(Addenda: thinking of zzbottom, I boiled the turnips, then mashed them with butter and salt (mashed neeps!); baby white turnips turn out to be yummy this way.)

Two cute license plates in the last day or so: Vermont EGG, and Massachusetts EQUUS 2