Mailbox transformed...

Painting the mailbox was important to me.

Before...and after.

The left pic above is the first day I took photos on 10/13. It's come a looooong way since then. Now, if I can only get some seeds in the ground...

Here are shots that equal a western panorama. Too much haze to see the ocean today, but it'll happen. Left to right. Southwest (Marina del Rey with several multi-story buildings). The center photo is straight west (just ocean out there) and the last is to the northwest (Santa Monica Bay and the Malibu bluffs way, way out there in the distance).

Seeds!

All my ordered seeds have come. Here's the list:

These are the winter vegetable seed pack from Seeds of Change. Since I have no clue what I'm doing I thought getting what they recommend was good for now.

Peacevine Cherry Tomato

Red Drumhead Cabbage (heirloom red)
Purple Top White Globe Turnip (heirloom)
Dinosaur (Lacinato) Kale
Blue Ballet Squash (heirloom)
Butternut Squash
Rosa Di Milano Onion (rare)
Kirota Chantenay Carrot
Bellesque Endive
Early Palla Rosa Radicchio
Ancho/Poblano Chile
Long Island Brussel Sprouts
Moss Curled Parsley

And herbs from Johnny's Selected Seeds:

Dandelion, Italian Catalonia Special
Dandelion
White Sage
Leaf Parsley, Titan
Cilantro, Santo Monogram
Leaf Parsley, Giant of Italy

When I was a kid I swear I remember that vegetables all had only one name. Life was simple then.

I grew a friend today...

Nut Grass. Indestructible. Immortal. Determined. Aggravating.


Looking southwest toward a neighbor's lush
garden paradise.


Looking south toward same paradise of same neighbor.

I spent most of my time weeding. Bermuda grass along the pathway and retaining wall to the east. As I trekked to the compost area to unload my Bermuda and nut grass (into a well-marked maw specifically designated for the rapacious nut grass), I met up with a woman of Japanese ancestory also headed that way pushing a loaded wheelbarrow. She showed me the other vilified weedie, False Garlic. I helped her dump her barrowful.

Her name is Vinnie. She's 76.

Vinnie took me on a tour of her paradise on earth. She grows flowers in one 15x15 plot and next to it another plot made up entirely of bitter melon vines. Who would think? She said the whole plant is usable and quite medicinal. Especially good for high cholesterol. Hmmmmm...

I brought home two. To 'slice up real fine' and stir fry. They look like lumpy medium-sized raw pickles. Hmmmmm...

Picture forthcoming.

I bought bright yellow paint for the mailbox on the way home.

More Whirled Peas

no matter what...

End the War Now Rally - Los Angeles October 27, 2007

Invigoration and enervation...

Okay, I didn't post last Saturday. But we were there lifting, toting, bending, scooping, pushing and pulling. Art is turning over the whole dang thing about 12" down. He got through about 1/4 in 90 minutes of intensive grunting. I -- on the other hand -- did rake-out duty to separate weedies from earth and level things a bit before Art turns all that over...I'm sure it makes sense somehow.

I like this woman's sign.

Off home we ran to shower then head for our Downtown LA Peace March. Our first! We are generally quiet people (no laughing!) so we felt pretty out of our element. To alleviate our timidness at yelling our feelings about this atrocious [blood for oil] business, I drafted us into a drill team called the "Marching Waitresses." Although there wasn't a waitress that I could find it was silly enough to get attention. We wore red and white polk-a-dot aprons. Here was the first part our call out/call back:

We are marching waitresses
Serving our country and land
The best way we can fill our goal
Is bring our soldiers home!

Youngsters and oldsters were there, but no families -- no in-betweenies. It got me to thinking that we are as a country certainly upset by this war, but we aren't losing sons (and daughters) in a draft like we were in Viet Nam.

I remember my mom was a Goldwater Republican but declared she'd move my two younger brothers to Canada before she'd let them be drafted. Fortunately, she never had to face that choice. But many did.

Now with our all-volunteer army, we don't feel like we're losing 'personally'. We have to believe this war is personal somehow or there will never be the fervent outcry big enough and loud enough to stop it and then help Iraq some other, less ravaging, way out of the mess we've made for them.

Hmmmm...Gardening and whirled peas. You get it all right here.