well-earned food coma
This has been an excellent couple of days.
Last night, sovay, ajodasso, and G. and I all had dinner together and then watched Warlock on the projector in the living room. It remains as silly and lovable as it was last time I checked it out. (I remember being unconvinced that it would be fun, and then kestrell said, "Richard E. Grant, in fur, with a whip," and I went, "...I'm listening." She was right, too.)
I was planning to see It Follows tonight, but I'm enjoying being around the house too much to stir forth. I baked an enormous enchilada-casserole thing in my black iron skillet, and I just ate way too much because it's really tasty. Layer of pinto beans full of spices, layer of broccoli and carrots and garlic all chopped, layer of vegetarian-answer-to-ground-round and fried onions, layer of baby spinach leaves, layer of chipotle salsa, layer of corn tortillas with a bit more salsa splattered on top. It's like Tex-Mex lasagna. I'm trying to get more iron in my diet.
I did my tax returns today, and was delighted that it didn't take the whole weekend as I'd dreaded it would. Went for a long afternoon walk in the sunshine. Found a new coffee shop on Ball Square with funny mosaic-china-chip tables. It felt fantastic having a lazy day for a change. I walked through part of the Tufts campus and admired the beautiful view from the central hilltop. You can see Boston, Somerville, Cambridge, and probably Newton and Allston from that height, on such a clear day.
It was a funny contrast; I was looking out at the distant blue skyline and sunlit roofs and towers of the buildings far off, and I was standing beside a memorial cannon that had been covered in graffitti paint so often over so many years that there were dry paint stalactites hanging off of its barrel. It's currently painted white, with I HAVEN'T SLEPT FOR THREE DAYS on one side and ALL MY BABY MAMAS HATE ME on the other. Next to that, a student had pitched an ultralight hammock between two trees and was trying to nap. He was a big heavy lump like a mango in a tote bag.
It must be spring, because every bro in this city was out in his yard today, with his friends, tossing a football around. Bless them, they're having a nice time.
This evening has been spent gardening like mad to make up for the time I lost to over-extended winter. I planted pansies in the big planters on the front steps; these were once tended by our downstairs neighbors, but now I am the only person ready to do anything with them. Yellow pansies in one pot, pale blue in the other. The deep purple pansies, I'm reserving for my own private enjoyment, on the deck beside my bedroom.
We have a compost pile. Again, it was started by ambitious gardeners who then moved out of the house, and I'm the only person who cares to use the output.My housemates are just happy to have somewhere productive to put food scraps and tea leaves. It's a promising pile, but it will need a lot of care and attention to produce usable compost. Today, I dug out the inch or so of black soil that had formed at the bottom, and found it was still full of un-decayed eggshells and rinds and whatnot. I had to sieve it through an old grill to get a reasonably fine, crumbly mixture to put in the pansy pots. From what I understand, I need to turn it regularly, put in a lot more leaves, shredded paper, and pine needles, and possibly add an accelerant like chicken manure. Right now, there's powdery green mold on the outside layers, and the inside of the pile is wet and compact garbage. When I gritted my teeth and dug a shovel in to aerate it, I saw things that would make you sick if they were in a Lucio Fulci movie. Hopefully, I'll be able to encourage more beneficial creatures like earthworms, and create an overall atmosphere of warm, crumbly rot.
("Dennis, we've got some lovely filth down here!")
Last night, sovay, ajodasso, and G. and I all had dinner together and then watched Warlock on the projector in the living room. It remains as silly and lovable as it was last time I checked it out. (I remember being unconvinced that it would be fun, and then kestrell said, "Richard E. Grant, in fur, with a whip," and I went, "...I'm listening." She was right, too.)
I was planning to see It Follows tonight, but I'm enjoying being around the house too much to stir forth. I baked an enormous enchilada-casserole thing in my black iron skillet, and I just ate way too much because it's really tasty. Layer of pinto beans full of spices, layer of broccoli and carrots and garlic all chopped, layer of vegetarian-answer-to-ground-round and fried onions, layer of baby spinach leaves, layer of chipotle salsa, layer of corn tortillas with a bit more salsa splattered on top. It's like Tex-Mex lasagna. I'm trying to get more iron in my diet.
I did my tax returns today, and was delighted that it didn't take the whole weekend as I'd dreaded it would. Went for a long afternoon walk in the sunshine. Found a new coffee shop on Ball Square with funny mosaic-china-chip tables. It felt fantastic having a lazy day for a change. I walked through part of the Tufts campus and admired the beautiful view from the central hilltop. You can see Boston, Somerville, Cambridge, and probably Newton and Allston from that height, on such a clear day.
It was a funny contrast; I was looking out at the distant blue skyline and sunlit roofs and towers of the buildings far off, and I was standing beside a memorial cannon that had been covered in graffitti paint so often over so many years that there were dry paint stalactites hanging off of its barrel. It's currently painted white, with I HAVEN'T SLEPT FOR THREE DAYS on one side and ALL MY BABY MAMAS HATE ME on the other. Next to that, a student had pitched an ultralight hammock between two trees and was trying to nap. He was a big heavy lump like a mango in a tote bag.
It must be spring, because every bro in this city was out in his yard today, with his friends, tossing a football around. Bless them, they're having a nice time.
This evening has been spent gardening like mad to make up for the time I lost to over-extended winter. I planted pansies in the big planters on the front steps; these were once tended by our downstairs neighbors, but now I am the only person ready to do anything with them. Yellow pansies in one pot, pale blue in the other. The deep purple pansies, I'm reserving for my own private enjoyment, on the deck beside my bedroom.
We have a compost pile. Again, it was started by ambitious gardeners who then moved out of the house, and I'm the only person who cares to use the output.My housemates are just happy to have somewhere productive to put food scraps and tea leaves. It's a promising pile, but it will need a lot of care and attention to produce usable compost. Today, I dug out the inch or so of black soil that had formed at the bottom, and found it was still full of un-decayed eggshells and rinds and whatnot. I had to sieve it through an old grill to get a reasonably fine, crumbly mixture to put in the pansy pots. From what I understand, I need to turn it regularly, put in a lot more leaves, shredded paper, and pine needles, and possibly add an accelerant like chicken manure. Right now, there's powdery green mold on the outside layers, and the inside of the pile is wet and compact garbage. When I gritted my teeth and dug a shovel in to aerate it, I saw things that would make you sick if they were in a Lucio Fulci movie. Hopefully, I'll be able to encourage more beneficial creatures like earthworms, and create an overall atmosphere of warm, crumbly rot.
("Dennis, we've got some lovely filth down here!")