Excellent things:
(in no particular order)
1. bizarrely shaped packages
2. bizarrely shaped packages that have bizarrely shaped vegetables inside.
(Those are asparagus crowns. I guess I was surprised, because “crowns” implies something different than rooty brown things that look like squids.)
(Did you know it takes three years before the squids yield asparagus for the table? The table-top asparagus spear is actually a whole big ferny, fruiting plant that was cut off in its crisp and delicious prime. For the next three years, Bill and I are on strict orders to let the ferny bits grow undisturbed by gastronomic inclination, before sneaking in springtime of 2013 to FINALLY cull sprouts from the herd. Strictly for the record, I could make a two-year-old in that much time.)
(Ok, almost enough about asparagus, but each crown needs to be buried 12 inches deep. Which required a lot of digging. And since 12 inches of dirt is what typically stands between chiggens and the worms they dream about day in and day out, asparagus planting day looked like this. And this. Extremely good, that afternoon.)
3. regularly shaped vegetables:
(I planted 13 tomato plants. It was so sunny last Saturday, and my mother did NOTHING to discourage me. I wander around outside and read their tags: black cherry and red currant, brandywine and pineapple and summer chocolate. Besotted with them, I am.)
4. new dresses.
(for it is spring!! Spring-enough, in fact, to picture the the Saturdays of April, May, June, July and August where you can slip out of bed and into a sundress.)
(It’s very true that I sort of lost my mind this week– it started with that good looking thermos and went downhill. I’m wearing this one to my shower (it’s GLORIOUS in person, and I swear it smells like nutmeg and also did you see these SEQUINS. oy.) and this one, that I have no good excuse for. Except that it promised me that I could be wearing nothing better when I ride my bike to the farmers market every Sunday from now to forever. Also, pockets.)
<<Dresses from here and fabulous here. The latter is one to whom I had sort of pledged undying, blog-reading, dress-buying allegiance to BEFORE I knew her packages arrived looking like this. delicious.>>
so jealous of your asparagus! It is so tasty, but I get a head to toe rash when I eat it, such a bust. My tomatoes are going in next week, I can’t wait any longer! Put some beans and zuch in last night. love the dress.
I had no idea it took so long to grow asparagus. It’s probably a good thing we decided not to try planting it this year, since we’re in a rental. I really hope my tomatoes make it. I could eat tomatoes everyday.
I love your chickens. They are so cute.
Also, those dresses are to die for. So was that packaging.
I don’t want to dash your hopes, but someone gave my mom spargus (yes, pronounced sparh-guhs) crowns when we moved to our farm. In 1991. Wanna know when we finally ate real grown-up genuine spargus? 2001. Ten years of spargus watching and no eating. But maybe that’s because we planted it in the far end of the vegetable garden with all the wild mint that goes untended. Prawly got strangulated by mint, if you ask me.
All’s I’m saying is that you might, indeedy, have Wee Beths and Wee Bills toddling about the chickens before you eat that asparagus. But at least you’ll have those vintage bobby pins to tide you over.