Gods and Goddesses…


Marin’s newspaper, the Independent Journal recently had an article written by Master Gardener Marie Narlock on the topic of  the myths that we might be buying into regarding our gardens.  It’s a good read.  Click on the lawn image and you will be transported to the article.

Image shot by John Mutrux

Little shop of horrors…

These two images, seemingly disparate are linked in my mind.  Analyze that one.

I’ve been hiding out from the midday temperatures by revisiting my carnivorous plant obsession.  That and Henry and I have joined the YMCA.  Yes, like the song.  I think I’m going to like it as apposed to the fancy pants gym whose membership I just dropped. I popped in yesterday for my ‘orientation’ which essentially was a workout lite.  While nodding my head and half listening a senior who I’m guessing was in his late 70’s clambered onto the machine next to me.  His skinny legs were incased in the requisite ribbed white knee socks, there were violently colored golf shorts and a nondescript oversized t-shirt.  “This is my favorite machine, I highly recommend it.  It’s going to give me smaller buns.”  was addressed in my direction.  All that came out of my mouth was “I’ll keep that in mind.”   On that note I really do think it’s going to work for us.

rosetted Sundew or Drosera spatulata "Frazier Island"

Henry in I believe 2004

Preview of coming feathered attractions…

Today is a frightfully annoying stereotypical Monday.  Much started, less finished and suddenly it’s time to pick up the boy from school.  The boy whom with which I had to have a conversation regarding what constitutes a legend.  In other words the difference between legendary and infamous and how that might translate into the short attention span world of 7th grade.  As it turns out he’s being greeted or crowned with the nickname legend.  This is not due to his Lacrosse skills but rather his ability to get five detentions within the span of 15 minutes last Thursday.  Yeah, it’s apparently like that.

My day off from the parenting gig this weekend was Sunday and it was spent helping out (well I plucked feathers from a wet, dead hen) butchering and documenting the transformation of two hens into delicious chicken stock as well as crock potted chicken stew at Garden Girl Farm.  I’m thankful for friends in helping with the restoration of my sense of humor and sanity.  I don’t know where to start so will leave you with this teaser.  One of these images does not fit, or maybe it’s that two don’t.

vintage jewelry advertisement

what's inside your chicken

vintage jewelry advertisement

Where do French fries come from?

Damn it! I forgot to set the Tivo for yesterday evening’s premier of “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution.” As that error stands corrected I feel free to comment. I’m curious to see how the show progresses. I live in an organic haven, the foodie bubble if you will of Marin County. The entire Bay Area is our farm. That said, Miller Creek Middle School where my son is working his way through sixth grade sells Snapple and soda’s albeit Izzy’s which contain sugar instead of corn syrup. Actually that would be “cane sugar” the current popular marketing terminology. Also available for the students are the much consumed Flaming Hot Cheetos. I’ve heard first hand from my son’s pediatrician about kids with symptoms resembling appendicitis from overindulgence in said snack foods. I’m not even getting into the list of unpronounceable ingredients. Perhaps a ban would just increase the desirability, I don’t know.