1) The cukes, the lettuce, and the radishes exploded out of the batter's box of life. The onions and carrots are making like Bengie Molina (for the uninitiated, Molina's as slow as a sloth slathered in molasses (but not as tasty)). Of course, those tubers are tricky fellows and mayhaps they have already begun their downward journey.
2) For readers who pay attention, you'll remember that I once referred to an area as the Rhubarb Stalks and had visions of disgusting rhubarb pies dancing in my head. Christina was dubious. "Doesn't look like any rhubarb stalks I've ever seen and I'm the daughter of a botanist," she grumbled. "Nay, my love, these are rhubarb!" I exclaimed. The botanist's daughter (or Christina Bottanestdottir as she's known in Iceland) then went about researching my so-called rhubarb. Turns out that they are nothing like rhubarb. They are actually American Pokeweed also known as American Nightshade. Nightshade! Seems like I read about nightshade somewhere, maybe as a poison in a detective novel or something...turns out it IS toxic! So, here I've been weeding and miracle-gro-ing a toxic plant that is, according to Wikipedia, "considered a major pest by farmers." Brilliant. I should have guessed what with the oozing purple berries of the nightshade
(memories of Ralph and "tastes like burning" ) So, a new hole has been dug and the deadly nightshade is following the moldy thornbushes on the path to destruction.
The spiney plant that I've been doing battle with is quite possible a lime tree. Limes!
1 comment:
My face hurts from laughing. NIGHTSHADE? Are you serious?? I thought that was just like a bad marvel comics femme fatale "Lady Nightshade" or something like that. Oh, and tastes like...buuuurning. Oh the beauty and the hope of it all. I have a deep desire to see said yarden.
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