Oh, my stars and garters!

Public space

Hey, do you think someone had something else on their mind when they were drawing up the plans for the lake at Mueller?

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The finished project looks more like a sideways standard poodle to me. That is nice and all but not nearly as much fun.

Guess what?

Quiet-o

This perfectly ordinary month has been a fine palate cleanser after the bloated indulgence of the holidays.

I've been trying to do one fun thing and one productive thing every day before I go to work at four. Given my fairly generous interpretations of "fun" and "productive," it's been working out ok. Yesterday was warm and bright, so I combined the two by taking a bunch of photos on a brisk walk to the drugstore. 

The beets are doing a little better today; maybe they decided to try harder after I told everyone just how much they suck.

Willa the dog is both great and terrible. Eric has proposed a temporary renaming, but don't worry, we would only call her McShitty until she grows out of her hyperactive, willful, crotch-pounding, pen-stealing, lettuce-plant-destroying phase.

She is also fuzzy, affectionate, and totally willing to play dead when I say BANG. I always wanted a dog that would do that.

Oh, and since this post seems to have morphed into an update round-up, I should mention that both cats are doing just fine.

My beets suck.

It's sort of depressing.

Leggy

These little beet bastards were waiting for me when I came into work yesterday. It was dark and rainy all weekend and I was not here to turn on the plant light, so they were straining up toward the window. I'm not sure if they are doomed or not. As always, stay tuned.

Citrus citrus

(There should be a picture here of lemons or a lemon tree here, but I forgot to take one. Whatever, you know what lemons look like!)

I finally picked the last three lemons off the Meyer lemon tree this weekend and made lemon curd with them. I was nervous because I had spent all year tending that stupid little tree for exactly four lemons, and I had never made curd before. If I blew it, all that work would have been wasted.

I didn't blow it at all. Curd is one of those foods that you whisk and whisk over heat and wonder if it will ever be done, and then you start to worry that you've already overcooked it and it's too late, so you spend about four minutes fretting and another two thinking I ruined it, I'm nothing but a big ruining ruiner, but then when it finally sets it's completely obvious that it's ready and time to take it off the stove. And, man, I felt like I had just spun gold when I tasted it.

So much fuss is made about Meyer lemons that I was a little skeptical, but they're really that good, fragrant and sweeter but with more zing than regular lemons, with just a hint of tangelo in there.

Then Eric made his first-ever batch of blueberry scones to complement the lemon curd. It was the end of a gray, chilly week, and here we had these nice, zesty yellow/calm blue treats. We felt pretty damned accomplished after that.

I used the leftover zest to make simple syrup and then invented my new favorite drink, the Lemon Tree: Crushed ice, 2 oz. vodka, 1 oz. lemon simple syrup, juice of one lemon, Topo Chico. I'm drinking one right now. It's great.

If you want something good and don't have Meyer lemons handy, you can just blow the above off and squeeze one grapefruit into a glass with vodka and ice. Or fuck it, just eat the grapefruit. They are at their peak right now, and they are stupendous. 

Beet down!

I'm back on night shift and soon to be chained to my desk again, so it's time to resurrect the office farm.

Long-time readers will remember the saga of morning glory, which clambered up a tower of taped-together chopsticks and strings to produce one perfect blue bloom at the very end of my bad work times.

Long-time readers will not remember the carrots I grew two years ago, because shortly after planting the seeds and posting a picture of the pot, the entire office became infested with gnats. Like, it was really bad; people were inhaling them when they talked and everyone was irritably waving their hands in front of their faces. It took me a few days to realize that I had brought the gnats in with the soil I planted the carrot seeds in.

I quietly took the infested pot of struggling seedlings home and left it on the patio where all the seedlings withered in the sun. Until today, I kept quiet about these failure carrots because I was mortified and also because I was afraid an angry mob of gnat-besieged coworkers would mass in my office and pelt me with sharpened blue pencils if I confessed.

This year I am going to try to grow a beet. Just one beet, because that's all I have room for. The package says that should take about half the season. After that I will switch to cilantro, which would be nice to have in the office all the time in case anyone has a lackluster taco that needs garnishing.

So. I have a pot full of (sterilized) soil, a packet of seeds, a grow bulb, and lots of time. Tonight I soak the seed, and tomorrow I plant it. I will, of course, keep you posted.

Bored at Work, Volume XI

Dog day

St. Murse and Willa, November 6.

St. Murse and Willa, January 2.

With houseguests, visitors, parties, and general holiday busyness, the puppy has been given short shrift a little these past few weeks. (Of course, she could have spent considerably less time in her crate over the holidays if she had refrained from doing things like incessantly nipping Eric's dad and jumping up eagerly--and repeatedly--to slam right into my dad's crotch.)

Anyway, I feel like all I want right now is to have a great day with my dog, so I'm going to spend the afternoon before work with her, just as soon as I finish this post and put on some pants. 

Dang pangs

So many treats, plates and plates of meats and cookies and cheeses and beer and just all kinds of crap, have been at my disposal over the past ten days that when I felt hungry this afternoon I was confused for a minute.

What is this odd sensation in my abdomen? A heart attack? Gas? Have these, my very biggest pants, begun to bind uncomfortably as well? Goddamn traitor pants!

Well, no, stupid, that's just hunger. And I laughed, because that is both awesome and pathetic, and I began to poll my friends to see who was ready to go to the bar for a burger and some beers.

I am not one bit sorry the holidays are over, but damn, it was fun to be a complete glutton for a little while.