Well, fall is here. Today we're having our first rain, which means that the frosh up at Porter College are even as I type this stripping down to the buff to pad across the campus in the nude (this is
First Rain -- the capitalized event -- said to define the culture of UCSC. I think in many ways it does, particularly in the way that the one black guy stands out against so much pasty white flesh. But I digress...)
Many days have gone by with nary a post about the garden. Mostly this is because my readers (all three of you) are acutely aware of the garden through other means, either because they (yes you, Mom) visited and took care of said patch of veggies, or because I visted and talked ad nauseam about it. I do have some pictures to post of the thing at the height of its glorious harvest, and I will do that as soon as I can figure out how to get the darned things off the cell phone without paying a fee (hacker Man O' Mine figured this out, but I can't remember how to do it without him).
Anyhow, the garden oasis is slowly transforming into the study oasis. I'm in college full time this year, and working 20 hours a week. In short, I'm damned busy and more often than not to be found with my head in a book, or at the very least a dense essay about installation art theory. Yeesh.
But there will be more garden to come. I'm planning to keep most of the patch going year round, so I'll be planting onions, pees, garlic, greens, and broccoli rabe. I will seed the remainder of the patch with favas again, as that worked out beautifully last year. The beans themselves are stinky eatin', but the plants are dramatic and pretty and they do fix big ol' clumps of nitrogen in the soil.
Okay, that's it for now. Back to theories of gender in figurative space imaginings, or whatever is on the syllabus for tonight.
Me
