Because 2 days is never enough.

I went to visit my sister, Kate, at Vassar College last weekend. She and her roommates joined a cooperative run by the Vassar farm and she was eager to show me her weekly harvest. And it was a bounty. There is something so much more satisfying about picking up your CSA veggies on an actual farm, as opposed to a church basement in Harlem, but I digress.
Like good little kibbutzim, Kate and her friends rose early and bright eyed, arriving at the farm at 12:30pm, some faces still dented from their sheets. They then took to their labors, picking green beans with curiosity and chewing them raw, handfuls a time, happily bovine as partially chewed beans hung from their lips.
Here’s Kate with her colorful flowers and leafy greens:

And here is Comrade Blake, a model for the Soviet propaganda poster for the Vassar Cooperative Farm. (He’s a professional: has been in two soundless films!)

It was a pretty farm, tucked right next to my old rugby field against a few acres of undeveloped mid-Hudsdon woods. Kate and her darling friends returned home and planned for a farm co-op potluck, carefully arranged sage leaves into a decorative candle holder, and put out their pretty flowers.
Oh sure they were all hung-over and patching together the spotty bits in their memory of the evening before. And yes, we did eat at the same charming greasy spoon diner where the wall paper alone is probably predates the civil war. But still, I couldn’t help but admire how much more wholesome these kids were, with their kale, fresh air, beets, peppers, lettuce, than we ever were back in the olden days.

When I left for my vacation in Seattle, I begged Karl to water my tomato plant with love. You see, it had finally starting growing little flowers and I felt so close to realizing my summer time dream of actually growing a tomato. The plant had survived my well documented bad plant mothering skills, a lengthy period in a planter far too small for it, and a traumatizing attack by our friend Tyler who, for inexplicable reasons though it was cilantro.

A week and a half later, I returned to my dear tomato project. Yes, we grow herbs and tomatoes in our bathroom…besides being the sunniest spot in the house with the most extra space, it gives me something to do while I brush my teeth and pee. And there they were, my little beauties. Little is the operative word. For now.

I love them. I love them so much I could literally sit there and watch them grow.

It’s late in the season and I’m concerned that I won’t ever get to eat a shiny red bathroom tomato on my salad. Matt suggested that I cut back all but one or two of them so that plant can concentrate on squeaking out a prize for me. But… KILL my babies (there are now 6 of them)??? What kind of monster would suggest that?

I did pull off a flower this morning. And I still feel kind of crappy about it.

UPDATE:

They’re getting biiiigger! I only hope I love my own children this much (and I hope I don’t dream of one day eating my own children with a little mozzarella and basil!)

Sometimes, I think to myself:

I wish there were a place I could go to make any kind of craft I want. I wish for a huge room with every possible craft material, rows of sewing machines, giant jars of buttons, huge tables, notions, paper, just everything. And I wish for a fridge full of beer there, and wine too. And maybe some music. Nice people would be good. And if I think it would be nice if I could walk to it. Wouldn’t that just be so cool if such a place existed?

IT DOES!!

Mindy and Erik and I spent Friday night at Spins and Needles at Etsy Labs. It was as if I conjured it by magic. This place is pre-school for adults. For five bucks, we got to make, drink, listen to a great DJ, and talk to nice people. I made a stuffed turtle (that I’ll use as a pincushion) and Mindy left with a stuffed monster. Erik provided design consultation and doodled.

The guy featured below was making a beautiful leather book. He specifically asks that you don’t copy his outfit.

Thanks to the event organizers (from Ottawa) Melanie Yugo and Jason Pelletier for a fun, productive night. We also dug this Etsy T.

I love checking out farmer’s markets in other cities. In addition to the famous Pike Place Market, Seattle has farmer’s markets all week in different neighborhoods. We checked out the Finney Ridge Market one afternoon. The farmer’s were all quick to suggest we taste the goods, and they were good. And heirloom tomatoes at $2.50lb ?

As Hardy said, “those are no Brooklyn prices!”

I bought some Woodrings’s gooseberry and wild golden raspberry jam for Karl that tasted so yummy I even checked my luggage to bring it back to New York.