Monday, June 15, 2009

Summer Moves Along

This summer I am growing beans, onions, a giant bowl of mixed herbs, carrots, mixed spring greens, broccoli and strawberries up on my decks. In the abandoned illegal dumping lot next to our condo, I have randomly chucked sunflowers, more beans and onions, and a few cherry tomatoes to compete with the black eyed Susan seeds I threw out there a few years ago. So for a few months the weedy backlot becomes pretty, before the Kudzu crawls over everything.

It's easier than you think to grow stuff in the middle of the city. The cranky old curmudgeon who owns the urban brownlot next to us has no idea that some of my other neighbors are now farming his unused land outright, putting out rows of produce that put my small unstructured efforts to shame. Next up for me: Pumpkins. There will be a pumpkin patch back there with the abandoned electronics, rotting trailers, and occasional homeless folk getting a night away from the shelter.

I like raising stuff downtown, especially the kids. The picture at the top of this entry is Diana playing in the water element at the Atlanta Botanical Garden. While we don't have a yard, I don't think the girls are lacking for it. We go to the park and the museum almost every weekend. Next weekend I am driving them out to the middle of nowhere to visit my Grandfather, and they can play on a small farm.

I have no idea how the idea of cities being sterile came to be; ours is verdant, lush, and if anything, overrun with greenery and twisting vines. This year flash floods have town new gulleys wherever they could, changing the slope of the land and spreading thin layers of silt across some roads that had to be cleaned. You can hear chickens in the morning, and count all kinds of bees and insects at all times of day. Giant trees are far more common here than in the suburbs. When you come to visit, we will share our green food with you, and you can watch the children grow, and relax; it's much too hot to do anything else.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Summer 2009

It's summer now, and after weeks of rain the Atlanta sun is on steaming the hell out of everything.

The husband had sinus surgery just before Memorial Day weekend, and spends most of his days fighting horrible headaches as he heals up. The doctors went in and also re-arranged the bones of his skull around his nose, correcting a deviated septum. After observing the pain and discomfort of healing, neither of us can believe that people elect to have nose jobs voluntarily. He still has plastic plates up in there, holding things together until the bone mends. This causes a whistle at night while he rests, and sometimes I have to sleep in our spare room. We're both impatient for him to feel better, to mend, but we knew going in that he would have a long, slow recovery. That's why he took the summer off from law school.

The girls are growing just fine; Dot jumps around and makes up stories and pretends to cook. Diana is walking now, and beginning to speak. They both have Winn's skin coloring, blue eyes and light brown hair, but that's where all similarity ends. Dot eyes are almond shaped and her hair straight. Diana's eyes are big and round and her hair curls in fat baby ringlets. The girls keep us running all weekend, every weekend. They are bundles of energy that left undirected would be incredibly destructive.

We visit museums, we visit parks, we visit the library. We pretend picnics, we feed the stuffed animals, we read stories. We collapse at night on weekdays, and on weekends raise our fists in silent joyous triumph after they're in bed by 8:30. I can't believe I ever thought I would be able to do this on my own.

Even with two active parents, I still sometimes need help; thank goodness we chose Tony and Andrew as godparents. Seriously, without them, the house would at times cease to function. Andrew was there to pick up Winn from surgery, and they've picked up the girls or babysat on the spot a great number of times.

This is all I can think of to wrote about tonight. I'm trying to get back nto the habit, and it isn't easy. Things might be rather bland over here until I can regain my knack. I suppose at this point I'm really writing for myself now, a kind of public diary I use for reference.