Where has the friend of you heart been, dearest reader? Well, I’ve been all over really. It’s been mostly DIY and gardening. Sadly no new recipes have manifested yet. I remain hopeful, hope springs eternal. Recipes are just limited by my own limits. I’m just in a strange mood, it’s getting near my fourth year with the weight off. And you know what? I still have no magical answers, just bitterness with the wait on my surgery, yeah I know worse things etc, but toad beneath the harrow, butterflies. Angry that there’s so much nonsense, that’s as strong a I’ll state it here, about losing weight. Remember these simple words: It’s easy to lose weight, burn more than you eat. It’s keeping it off that’s the hard part. You lose it for a short while then fight to keep it off for the rest of your life. It’s not the first challenge I’ve faced confidant reader, but it’s a bloody hard one at times. The balance that must be kept. The fear of dropping too low or going too high. It adds up. I just wish I had something tangible to share, I feel like I’m grabbing at mist and trying desperately to capture one easy to understand thought that could help someone else. I, well, I’m just sorry. I do often wonder how well I’m making myself understood. About as well as I understand others, eh? Okay, onto fun with Jack.
You may, or may not, know that I’m on Twitter as Pep’s Free From Kitchen. I would tell you to follow me, but eh, do it if you want. I just use it for entering contests and posting site updates. Occasionally I’ll post something, but a limited character rule and me generally over-thinking everything I write doesn’t mix well. But you might have noticed I got two new CDs. Yeah, if I love the internet it’s because I could contact an indie band in Japan and have them re-stock their CDs and then spend way too much getting them. You pal is learning to live, and I tell you it’s something we so often forget to do. We set up our lives and assume that we’re alive, even when inside we’re losing ourselves everyday. I’m taking back myself. I’m in a newly decorated room ( carpeted it and put flooring down, roughshod sure, but I did it), surrounded by the things I love, listening to engrish (Yeah spelled that right) lyrics blaring out of speakers, typing a post that might be met with indifference or bewilderment at best. Ah well, writing is cathartic, so don’t think poor Jack has lost his marbles or anything. I’m just venting. But, Hey Look, Flowers!
Someone once told me that gardening makes you philosophical and as I stood there in the garden looking at the strawberries I grew from tiny tossed away seedlings, I really felt the flow of time. Two years and all it takes is a minute to stop it all. I looked at a moment where I took action and they were thrown away, then towards another where they over-grew and had to be dug out damaging others in the process. It felt like a Greek tragedy. It had to be done, I replaced them with yellow strawberry seedlings. I made a mistake, but it was a lesson. You have to live a long time with a mistake in the garden, but sometimes you find it wasn’t a mistake at all. There’s a Jack out there in a year or so, perhaps he’s picking yellow strawberries or cursing his luck. Who knows, all I can do is do what I think best and hope. Hoping for better days seems to be a predominant theme in my life.
My squash have grown to what looks like really healthy proportions. Good weather early on seems to have done the trick, as well as regular feeding with tomato feed. They’re setting fruit and still flowering which means more fruit. Of course it also means more fruit that gets aborted, but the plant knows what’s best. I just feel like decoration at times. The photos ended up kind of blurry because of the sun and the awkward angle I had to bend at to take them in the first place. You can make out some of it at least.
As you might know most of my basil is dead. Cinnamon Basil hasn’t got the memo. It’s thriving. I don’t know if it’s characteristic of this strain, but I won’t complain. More pesto for yours truly. I took cuttings too, I don’t know if they’ll grow, but I’ll give it a try. If all else: compost! I was given a another bin so now I have three set up. One ready to use and two others getting filled on and off. You know I never know how to type these posts, that why I mostly do them as a monologue directed at an assumed reader. I just wandered off adding bonemeal to my squash because I thought it’d be better to do it now. Shouldn’t do them any harm at least. That does knock my train of thought off the tracks a bit. Choo! Choo! All aboard the I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing train.
I have no idea what this post was supposed to be about, not really. Thanks for sticking with my loyalist of readers, transient readers too. The garden is winding down a bit, it’s waiting and planning. Recipe to be found as well. I have grapefuit, I mistook it for oranges, what?, maybe curd. Maybe something cooler. There’s always work to be done. Like Vonnegut said: You were sick, but now you’re well again, and there’s work to do.
So it goes. Until next time.
P.S *Cough* Yeah, I forgot to mention I planted my Everlasting Sweet Peas, under a bush as the plot I wanted wasn’t available. That’s the reason for the title, you know? Popeye? I’ll lay you down among the sweet peas? No? Well, blow me down!