basil, peas, ink and mosquitoes

by underswansea

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When the sun goes down the mosquitoes come out in full force. I wondered the garden, expecting to sit for awhile and eat some peas but was chased out, my tail tucked. Back inside I noticed blood streaks on my arms where I’d slapped at them, getting five and six with each slap. A glance in the mirror revealed more streaks on my forehead and neck. Damn they seem ferocious this year!

The peas are fattening up and need picking. They come quick. I planted a Burpee Select this year, unlike many past years of planting Green Arrow. The Burpee peas are smaller but abundant. My planting practices don’t change much over the years. Lisa says it’s tough to get me to try anything new. I’m not sure what to make of these smaller peas. The growing season is short and long between. No sense wasting time on a pea that’s too short, when you know Green Arrow is just fine. Perhaps I’ll take a handful to Sister Deb so she can lend an opinion.

Ink on paper! The printing press was in a good mood tonight. Despite the heat it was easy, the ink was thiner than in winter. The ink flowed, squeezed tight between the rollers, finding the page, laying flat already drying. The sound of the press kept time with the cd player pumping tunes. It’s hard to imagine something I love so much going out of style. The most important words are still found on paper. For me that won’t change, regardless of, ironically, declaring it here on a blog.

During the cold of February I gave my good neighbour a packet of Basil seeds. He is generous but has difficulty taking the simplest of gifts. This spring he gave me six basil seedlings planted in a bucket that once held kitty litter. He said they were my seeds. It was his way of giving back the gift. I put them on the deck. This heat has really made them take off.

They need to be pinched back. I plan on making pesto and giving him a jar, lending back the gift. That will piss him off and guarantee me an invite to breakfast of fried eggs and pesto sandwiches! He will win and so will I. Next February, when the trees are bare and the ice is thick, when our moods are low, we’ll start again. It’s what gets you through after all.

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