Friday, May 30, 2008

Oh, little garden!

Einstein and I live in an apartment. Since we don't have a yard for gardening, I have turned to container gardening. This year's crops include (drumroll, please!):

Basil (yum!)
Lemon Thyme

So far they seem to be thriving, although I worry a little bit that they will not survive the summer. I grew up in the North, and summer below the Mason-Dixon line seems a little, well, harsh. Like, soul sucking heat that is out to kill all living things, me and my baby plants included. Technically, half of them aren't babies, they are perennials from last year, but still.

There are few things that make me happier than coming home and picking things right off the vine for dinner! If you've never tried gardening of any sort and are interested in starting a few pots of tomatoes (or being even more ambitious!) check out The Edible Container Garden by Michael Guerra. It has great photos and excellent blow by blow instructions for all types of plants and containers. It is excellent for all levels of gardener, from the complete neophyte to the experienced gardener who is new to containers, or just looking to branch out from tomatoes!

Also, I love the farmers market. I went to the commissary today and didn't have to buy ANY produce. (Our commissary has the nastiest produce ever). Hooray!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Note to random parent

Dear Madam,

Thank you for bringing your son into the library. We are so happy to have him in the children's section, and I sincerely hope that your visits to our fine library inspire him to a lifelong love of books.

I'd also like to point out that leaving your child unsupervised in a public place is technically child abandonment and you are so freaking lucky that I didn't call the cops. Since you apparently think that your son is young enough to wander around with a pacifier in his mouth (even though he can walk and talk, although he is hard to understand around the binky!) I am at a loss as to why you think it is okay to leave him all alone in a 40,000 square foot building while you are on the other side of it, completely immersed in your internet surfing.

Just because I am sitting at the desk in the children's area does not mean I am watching your son. Luckily for you, I am a fairly patient person who loves children, and didn't mind him following me around or providing him with some books to look through or things to color with.

BUT. I could have been a child molester. Your son has no sense of stranger danger or where to go or not to go, since he is three. Leaving him unsupervised for over an hour is not only unwise, it is also criminal. Also, looking at me contemptuously when I walked over to you (since you hollered for him from the circulation desk, instead of coming to the children's area to fetch him) and reminded you politely that according to library policy all children under seven must be with an adult at all times did not help your case with me. What really sealed the deal was the "little bitch" comment you made under your breath when I told you that if it happened again, I would call the police.

So I've changed my mind. If you do it again, I will go ninja librarian on your ass.

Nomad Librarian

Friday, May 2, 2008

I don't have words of my own, for this

Dirge without music by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.

The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

We'll miss you, dear friend.