We came back into the city for some events this weekend. Between meetings this afternoon, I run to the store for something to eat. At the checkout I realize I have a basket full of prepared foods. Fuck it! I love sodium!
In the express lane - the 15 items or less lane - I watch a man in an LL bean rain jacket and clogs unpack his basket; Selzer, broccoli. Walnuts, lentils. Onions, lotion, Lara bars (5). It goes on. Christ, sorbet, of course. This line is taking forever and I start counting his items as he takes them out of the basket. My eyebrows jump at 18. I am surprised at my irritability and also this seemingly rational, healthy man's inability to follow simple supermarket rules. I want to lean in close to him and whisper "Twenty-eight."
I want to shout TWENTY EIGHT!!!!!!!! twentyeighttwentyeighttwentyeightttttt.
Things are a little, intense.
Eric and I eat a rotiserrie chicken with our fingers tonight. We're in good spirits for a change. Many of our nights living at the farm have been peppered with productive conversations like:
Why are you so cranky?
I'm not cranky, you're cranky.
You're being really fucking annoying right now.
You're being annoying.
I'm going to go hang myself in the barn now.
I'm going to go compost myself.
Remember to cut yourself up into little pieces!!!
Which is not to say that we're not having a great time, we are! I'm learning so much. Like the other day when Sanford Horton (renowned tractor pull champion of the capitol region) stopped by to discuss plowing our large field. We were talking about grain drilling some buckwheat seed as a cover crop when I said "And what if we plant the seed and then it doesn't rain?" My question hung in the air while he stared straight at me for a second too long before answering...."Well if we could control the weather a lot of people would be doing this."
"Good answer Sandy! I was testing you! Can I offer you a glass of pinot gris?"
This spring has been a schizophrenic season for my mind. In all seriousness I have so many fantastic new people in my life who are making this farm (which by the way we're renaming "Shot in the Dark Farm") come to life. Bob, Ivan, Sanford, CERISE and SONYA!, Agnes, Thor, Glenn, not to mention all the great farmers who have lent me their time and knowledge offering invaluable advice and demonstrating kind patience for my endless questions.
I cut three buckets of tulips, fritillaria, and narcissus yesterday before we drove back to Brooklyn. It wasn't that big of deal, but thinking back on it I realize it was a sort of milestone for Saipua. Lucky brides be getting some pretty things from Worlds End this weekend. I'll try to take some pictures, and see you on the other side.
20 comments:
Your conversations with Eric remind me of the kind of conversations Brandon and I used to have when we were opening Delancey:
"Why are you sweeping under my station? You just swept there."
"Because after I swept, you spilled a bunch of flour. See?"
"You're making a big deal out of nothing. You're just tired."
"Flour all over the floor is not nothing!"
"Yes it IS nothing!"
"You're MAKING me tired!"
And so on.
I'm loving reading about all of it. I can well imagine how busy and long your days are, so I'm impressed (and thrilled) that you take the time to write stuff down. Goooooo, Sarah...
lucky brides, indeed. congratulations on the harvest!
I love your writing almost as much as I covet your arrangements. Sigh :)
Xo
Allison
your the best
But have you been making any hotcakes?
Beautiful flowers. Sad but beautiful
I love your posts and following your progress. Would you please tell me what kind of camera you use? Love the different types of looks you get and I'm in the market for a new camera. Thanks so much! I you would rather email the info (if you have time) my address is grapevinefloral@gmail.com.
Thanks Trish!
there is a big empty space in our bathroom where the clawfoot is supposed to go; Stuart said not yet, which means a decade later if I'm lucky. your cuts are beautiful. and I think an alarm should go off in the store when someone pulls that shit.
I'm gonna tell Tim to go compost himself. Right now.
Love the tub :-D
Ooh, you have Fritilaria persica! Mine grew foliage but no blooms this year. You are living the dream, warts and all.
Cutting from your own garden to work with, a dream come true!
I'm so proud of my tulips, but afraid to cut them, I don't have nearly enough!!!
Your cranky is delightful (in writing anyway!, Sorry Eric!), it makes me feel like I'm not the only one! (Sorry Leisah!)
xo Monica
Oh, how I love thee, fritilaria...
i make it rain
I wonder how many millions of people have already asked you if you have read The Bucolic Plague? Sorry to be the annoying 1 million and 1th person to ask and tell you that you should read it if you haven't already. but you should.
Lovely flowers!Looks so cute!!!And also love your writing!
snaps are the most beautiful part of the blog, nice pics.
DYING over the "little bits" comment.
Ah, the joys of mawwiage AND farm restoration. Have you read any of Jon Katz's early books whereupon he (overweight middle-aged Jewish guy from suburban NJ) moves upstate to a dilapidated farm with his neurotic problem dog (a border collie named Homer)? No? OH GIRL.
A little sauna is a good idea
I've just stopped laughing long enough to leave a comment! Found your blog through blackapple. So glad. Especially appreciate the grocery store scenarios. Nothing like a good roasted chicken!
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