Did you know that a pot luck originally meant a dinner at which you got whatever the host happened to have? Rather than one where you were supposed to bring something? And that’s the sense you will get in this post. This is what I happen to have today.
- FUCK YOU, BOUNTY OF SUMMER. If I have to eat another green bean from my garden I will surely die. And this whole notion that all the seasonal shit matures at the same time so you can make things with, say, tomatoes and green beans and corn? That is a myth. At least in my garden it is a myth. Shit be totally serial up in here (ten tons of radishes, ten tons of lettuce, ten tons of peas, ten tons of beans, ten tons of squash). I do not feel inspired by this seasonal produce, I feel like eating a grilled cheese from the horrible bar down the street.
- There are two books from my childhood I have been trying to find for years, but searching the internet is not working. Do you recognize either of these plots? A) A child and her family live in a subterranean world, floating on a river that they believe goes on and on forever. The child places markers in the walls and discovers that in fact they are going in an endless circle. She finds her way out into the world above. No, it is not Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. B) A trashy YA sci-fi book. Boy goes off into space–he’s going to learn how to pilot spacecraft and, I believe, travel at speeds faster than light. In order to do this, he must forge a symbiotic relationship with an alien who I remember as being FUZZY. There’s also a girl. Name either book and you win a pound of green beans!
- I’ve made significant progress on my un-nesting project. I sold some stuff (I tried to sell my wedding dress–the shop wouldn’t take it–it’s not a traditional wedding dress, I should note), I donated some stuff* (mad props to the Salvation Army for actually coming when they said they would!) and threw some stuff out and the basement is now empty and painted and fingers-crossed-not-going-to-flood-again. And I would be done with the whole fucking thing if my spouse would just get of his ASS and do his part (to wit, moving the furniture that I can’t move because I am a) not that strong and b) pregnant). Oh, the waiting is driving me NUTS. I know it’s just the usual incompatibility between his put-everything-off-as-long-as-possible timeline, and my do-everything-as-quickly-as-possible timeline, but I fucking hate it. I really want to move Bunlet into his new room, because he deserves it, and also because he falls out of the guest room bed if you don’t put some pillows around him, which I never forget, but which other people who shall not be named DO.
- Bun Bun used her first curse word, in front of our child care provider. She said GOD DAMN IT, which is a particularly bad choice because the nanny is a believer in God, so took it rather to heart. She absolutely learned it from me. I say GOD DAMN IT when I am super upset or hurt. I have a linguist’s feelings about expletives (serve an essential function! ultimately just words!), so we had a nice chat about curse words. My position: These are words that you can’t say in front of some people because it makes them sad. Bun Bun: What are some MORE examples of curse words? Needless to say, I did not list them.
I hope you enjoyed your meal. What’s in your pot today?
*Things that are not in my house anymore!