Pies, Poetry, and GPS
Grump seems determined to make Washington D.C. ugly and garish. I’m waiting for him to uproot the cherry blossoms and put up a row of statues to himself as Jesus or more likely, Hitler.
We have been transplanting hardy seedlings from the little greenhouse to the gardens, as well as putting in seeds for hardy plants like lettuce. Woody planted cabbage, Brussels sprouts and bok choi that I’d started inside but try as he might, and he does, he can never plant anything in straight line. I transplanted three kinds of Chinese cabbage. That’s an experiment since the falls are now way too hot to grow it when I always did. I started the last of seeds I begin indoors: three kinds of zucchini, pattypan (sometimes called skillet) summer squash and sunflowers. They’ve all germinated and will sit in the bay window for a week before going to the greenhouse. We’re at a brief pause in planting now. What we should do is work on cleaning up the herb bed and the few ornamental beds, including the important pollinator beds. But the weather is not promising for the weekend. It’s quite chilly. We’ll probably do some spring cleaning instead.
No responses yet to my ad in the Provincetown Independent, our wonderful local paper. After trying futilely to catch up, I have begun writing poems again. I stopped to try to get some of the most necessary chores done, and did manage to catch up on bills, bank statements, etc. But filing would take a couple of days at least, and I can’t spare them now.
Gigi and Ralph had given us a gift certificate to Marion’s Pies in Chatham. They were closed for a month this winter, as always, and then with the blizzard, travel was just too difficult. But Thursday, we got it together to go there in the morning. The day before, I had ordered a large seafood pie. We both love their savory pies. It does us for two suppers and when we’re as busy as we are in spring, that is a huge delicious help. We just have a small salad with it and we’re set for a great supper.
The new Subaru came with GPS via Android. I always navigate by maps in my head. I can see the roads we need to take. On the way back there, Woody insisted we use GPS. On the way back I insisted we go the scenic route via Pleasant Bay. which I actually think is faster. The GPS knew both routes, of course. But it annoyed me. Make a right in a quarter mile. Turn left at the next stoplight. Yap. Yap. Yap. I don’t like a car telling me what to do. Woody loves GPS. Go figure.
Gigi and Ralph were supposed to get back from Florida yesterday, but plane after plane was cancelled. The airline said it was weather in Boston, but yesterday was a sunny pleasant day when after getting the pie, we were both able to work some outside. Airlines lie all the time. They spent the night in a hotel and hope to fly home today. Given all that’s going on with airlines, I’m not sorry my flying days are over – which amounted to twice or three times every month for almost 70 years. Corporate greed spoils so many things. I remember when flying was pleasant, good food even, if you can believe that. Not crowded but on the other hand, smoke choking me, making me sick. So, it’s a toss-up, I guess. When I get nostalgic, memory contradicts.