Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Everything's Growing

Here's the Cheeto-smeared face of my favorite boy in the world. In his hands is a tasty bit from the garden-- Carouby de Maussane, of course!

Seriously, though-- it's a snow pea. And of course there's a story behind it!!

I took the advice of DH's mom and aunt and ordered seed this year rather than buying mine at Target. Now, I'm talking Grandmas with more gardening experience than years I've been alive-- each. However, the company they recommended sent me awful seed. As in half of the seeds germinated and grew (I'm used to about an 80%-success rate). Thank goodness I was still tempted by the Target seed. This was a Sean Conway heirloom snow pea that called my name. I answered.

Carouby de Maussane did not disappoint. These are the lovliest peas I've ever eaten. I started popping these in my mouth as I was picking. Yum, yum, yummy.

I was planning on sharing my garden veggies. Now I'm feeling a bit selfish.

P.S. The boy is getting huge. He talks (saying 'they koo' for thank you), crawls on top of the furniture (even training his peer, the little punk), and runs everywhere he wants to go. It's weird-- I'm either totally enthralled with him or repulsed by his punkiness. Summer's going to be fun, though.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Perspective

An aspect of my undergraduate work in history that I absolutely adored was looking at an event from a variety of perspectives and divining out the truth hidden in the subjectivity.

That said, I must say that I have really enjoyed watching Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima. I remember that my fellow history students and I would always rag on the historical inaccuracy of popular movies. (So much so that I was was a horrible partner to watch a historic movie with. To the point that I once made an absolute a$$ of myself in a movie theater in Pretoria, South Africa watching Mel Gibson's The Patriot. I was every bit the ugly American that evening as I loudly grouched to my husband about historical inaccuracy every five minutes.) These two movies show how horrible war is-- from every perspective. Dead sons are dead sons. No child should die in a war, and no mother should be crying over a flag-draped coffin.

God bless all of the soldiers stationed in harm's way. And may God bless DH's brother, who is off to Iraq in July.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Mixed Feelings...

I had a strange experience last week and I'm finally ready to blog about it. I live about 12 miles from where I work. My school is in a cute, nice neighborhood surrounded by a farmer's market, a Panera, a nice gourmet food and liquor store, and other niceties. I live south of this area and daily I drive through an area that is struggling economically. I realize that this area has seen gentrification, so I've always made a point to patronize these businesses despite the drug and crime reputation it has.

Last week, I stopped and decided to get a pizza for dinner. I parked in a drug store parking lot, got out the baby, walked to the pizza place, and ordered my pizza. Mark and I then walked over to the drug store and shopped while the pizza was being made. I finished shopping, put the bags in my trunk, and walked back to get my pizza. I waited for a bit once I got inside and made small talk with the lady in line in front of me. She and I chatted about kids, and all of a sudden one of the employees came around the counter to hand me the pizza. Meanwhile, she walked out. As I left, pizza in one hand, baby and purse in the other, I saw the lady talking with a man underneath the sign for the pizza place.

I walked back to my car, put the pizza and my purse in the front seat, closed the door, and began putting Mark in his carseat. You know when you can tell you're being watched and/or someone is approaching you from behind? I got a strong sense of that as I finished buckling Mark in, so I quickly finished and shut the door. As I stood up, the lady I had spoken to previously was right there and the man she'd been talking to was watching her and I from across the parking lot. Freaked me out. She told me that she was homeless and that the pizza place gives out messed-up pizzas to the homeless but that they didn't have any at this time. She didn't have anything to eat. At this point, I begin offering the pizza. She went on with her plea and I continued offering (probably sounding like an idiot-- It's a large! It's got everything on it!).

She finally took the pizza and she hugged me. I hustled my behind out of there.

On my way home, I was still freaked out. I was angry that I'd lost my dinner (I stopped and got a pizza for a reason). I felt violated and threatened. Yes, I offered up the pizza. But when a lady with broken front teeth comes up from behind me while I'm securing my 16-month old and she has a male acquaintance watching nearby, I'm feeling vulnerable.

I'm now ticked. I feel like I got hustled. I'm not going back into that area, especially because this all happened in broad daylight, at about 5:00 P.M. I don't feel safe there.

The scary thing is that it could have been much, much worse.

What do you think?