My mom has always had a garden. And from that garden, for every summer in my memory has come a bountiful harvest, or at least enough vegetables for a bunch of plentiful salads throughout the summer months. Lettuce (usually a few different types), carrots, green onions, tomatoes (of course), radishes, cucumbers, green beans, and my favorite: garden peas. As a child, I would sit on a towel at the swimming pool or scabby-kneed under the shade of a backyard tree or with my shirt off in the recliner chair and in my lap I an enormous bowl full of peas that I would devour the in an afternoon. Now of course, the peas have to be eaten fresh, uncooked, straight off the vine. Cooked pees are pretty much gross, in fact most cooked vegetables are pretty much gross. To this day, homegrown peas, fresh off the vine, remain one of my most treasured summertime snacks (right up there with frozen grapes). When I lived in Platt Park I grew my own, fairly successful, batch of pole peas. Last night I got myself a big old bag of peas from my moms garden. My bag is much smaller because my brother, Pandy, and I, immediately started gorging on the yield and didn’t stop till we were half way through. We slowed down once we realized that my brother was going to be the winner of the “most peas per pod contest” with a grand nine peas. Not to mention I was hoping this bag would last me through the weekend but I’m beginning to become doubtful.
On the top floor of my apartment building, in the laundry room, is a “free table”. It’s an ordinary card table of fake brown wood, pushed up against the wall. There is a sign that is taped to the wall above the table, written out in yellow highlighter on white notebook paper, it reads “free (with an arrow pointing down toward the table)”. Residents who have belongings they no longer need or want, possessions that hold old unwanted memories or unfulfilled dreams, or just plain old junk, leave them on this table for others to take. Most of the items you find on this table are useless junk. But one mans trash is another mans treasure and all that crap. What isn’t claimed by residents is then donated to the church next door or trashed (depending on its quality). I have put a half closet worth of clothes on this table over the two years that I have lived here. I have also gotten some pretty cool stuff off this table too:
San Francisco is a wonderful city. The weather was perfect. There was nearly no fog. Unfortunately, I only got to spend about 28 hours there. It was definitely whirlwind. I did however get to spend a little time in China Town, go to the ferry building, and walk around Knob Hill and Downtown. I stayed at the Omni which was a beautiful hotel with all the luxuries. I’ll be back, there is so much more to see.
My presentation went great. I spent most of the day in meetings, groups, and discussions. It all went well. But it was still work.
I got back home last night around 1:00 am. There was a giant hole in my shower wall. This is a good thing. The leak in bathtub faucets is finally being fixed after getting progressively worse for the last year-and-a-half. A new shower head has been put on so now I don’t have to squat my knees or bend over to rinse the shampoo off my head (which as small as it may sound, is actually quite a luxury).
Thanks for all your luck, I know it helped.