A list of things.

1. The average rate for a medium sized flat, in centrally located Amsterdam, a week ago was $75, today it's $85.
2. The cheapest ticket you can get that won't have you transiting via Moscow, to Europe this summer, when you have to be in England on the 1st of August is $1,165, unless you want to fly Norwegian Air, in that case you won't have a checked bag, or a meal, or even a seat. I think mostly you get to be on the plane, or at least a chance to be on the plane.
3. The ways to Amsterdam, from Berlin include a car, bus, ride-share, two different train systems, a boat out of Denmark, or a Plane. You could probably walk too.
4. The best way to waste a day or two making a garter to be worn by the Bride on the 1st, in England, is to use braided cording. I'm pretty sure it could double as a cilice if one was feeling particularly repentant. 
5. The price of plane tickets from New York's John F Kennedy to Raleigh-Durham jump significantly the weekend of June 27th, I assume everyone else in New York is also going there to celebrate my niece's 1st Birthday. The price of my ticket was $11.50. Thank you JetBlue miles.
6. The 15.5 inch by 11 inch aluminum tray will fit 9 tomato plant seedlings, while the 11 inch by 19 inch tray will only fit 6, on account of higher sides.
7. The standard Home Depot Metroshelf, in Chrome is $22, it has three shelves, holding 34 tomato plants, two Kale plants, three Sweet Pea vines, one Brussels Sprout plant, three Forget-me-not plants, two Black Eyed Susan vines, two pots of Black eyed Susans, a pot of basil, a sprig of mint and a whole mess of Leeks. This will still not be big enough for all my seedling dreams. Sigh. 
8. The ideal wattage for a square foot of seedlings is 40watts, with a mix of 2700k and 5000k, providing both ends of the light spectrum, for both leaf and flower development.
9. The current lighting for my seedlings are 8 bulbs, ranging from 60watts-120 watts. 
10. The price of an immediately returned phone call from the Director of the garden is exactly 1 manual push mower, which, hereunto now has been sat in my from entry hall.
11. The price also includes an invitation to the Brooklyn-Queens Land Trust meeting and finalized schedule for garden clean up and subsequent plot hand out, (April 4th at 9am and April 11th, time, unknown).

This has been how I spent my last 2 weeks. I'm so exhausted, but this summer is shaping up to be actually fantastic.

Hello, again.

I am still alive. I swear.

I've been away for the last two weeks or so. I knew I couldn't compete with any Grandparents with baby snuggles time and so planned my visit to see my new niece a few weeks well after her due date. And so have been in NC since literally, July.

It was really awesome to get to see her and sit on my sister's couch with a little baby napping on my chest, binge-watching Long Island Medium. We might've watched all three season on NetFlix, twice. There might've been a dozen donuts from Rise Donuts polished off, which if you're ever in the Raleigh area you should go to, every day, twice. And eat everything, which I definitely did not do. Twice. There is literally nothing better than a 6 week baby smiling at you. Even if it's immediately followed with that same baby pooping everywhere. You can't find a better medicine than a smiley baby.

I even managed to get some gardening in. Trying to earn my keep and realizing that while they may be damn good at birthing pretty babies, my sister and brother-in-law didn't have much of a garden to brag about this year. I don't know what could've kept them busy the last few months, but don't worry I properly scolded them for their gardening laziness. I think a certain 6-week old wasn't pulling her own weight. The day I left they had green beans, Swiss chard, basil and spinach sprouted and their two new tomatoes looked happy, we'll see what late summer and fall gives to them in vegetables.

Here's a few shots of the garden today, the green beans have really taken off and I'm hopeful that with the cooler temperature they have been having, the tomatoes will set fruit (they wont over 80-85 degrees).

I've tasked my Dad, who lives near my sister, with watering it and keeping and eye on things just in case the 6-week old continues to shirk her gardening duties.

Meanwhile back at home, I I left my garden in the hands of no less than 5 people (because I'm neurotic) and came back to a zucchini bigger than my forearm. Don't get me wrong, I am literally indebted to my fellow gardeners and roommate and friends  for keeping tabs on things and picking things so the plants didn't die off after fruiting, but I might've overdone it because all the watering and rain left me with a wicked case of powdery mildew, which KO'd my cucumbers and made of feast of my Squash. Silver lining: one of my fellow members who I had told to pick whatever she liked while I was gone, surprised me with a quart of my tomatoes that she had picked and jarred after she saw all my Romas ripen. It really made my day!


There'll be more later in the week, detailing fall plans, the ridiculous amount of food I've brought in from the garden this summer and what I've done with it all.

The Gods of Curb Finds.

Sometimes, I think to myself "How the hell did I get here". And I don't mean that in a geographical sense or anything like that. What I mean is "How the hell did I find myself dragging a wheelbarrow, half in the bag, down a block in Brooklyn, mosquito bitten,  to scavenge flagstone from a house reno?"

Let me explain. Today I had some running around to do, and briefly, while I was home, brought the dog out for a walk and while we were out happened upon a lovely pile of flagstones, they might also be called slate, but they're thick slate, not the measly stuff you slate things with, but the tough thick stuff that you walk the street in hooker heels with.  Sadly, neither without the time or any fellow gardener to snatch the stones and schlep them back to the garden I (foolishly) placed my hope in the gods of the curb finds and went on with my day, hopeful that I'd be able to dash back once I got home.

The Gods of the Curb Finds are a vicious and vengeful sort. They will not hold stuff, they will not give what you beg to find. They are fickle and they are cruel. They will bless you with the discovery of a gorgeous shelving unit ONLY when you have your mini schnauzer (who loves to stop and smell EVERYTHING) and they will laugh and enjoy the sight of you as you invoke your Momma Bear strength to carry said shelving unit with one arm while Miss Daisy smells every rock and tree and creature. And despite knowing how cruel the Gods were, after walking a friend who had come over to try some of the tomato jam that I spent 4 hours making, with some Hungarian Rose, I ran to the garden to borrow a wheelbarrow to ferry the stones back. WELL, as we enjoy collecting (hoard) dead plants and weeds, we also in the garden like to hoard wheelbarrows. Literally, there are 5 wheelbarrows in the back. None of them have inflated tires, one has an entirely flat tire AND NO HANDLES. I know. One day I'm going to drag them out to the curb. ONE DAY.

And so after all that, and doing a pretty damn good (horrible) job at walking (dragging) Barrow (yep, I shortened that, we're on first name basis after our ordeal) down the street, guess what was gone from the curb. Back on the list of curb wants goes flagstones. Sigh. I will go comfort myself (and my mosquito bite covered legs) with Camembert and Tomato Jam and Hungarian Rose. Life is hard.

This post is brought to you by a giant glass of wine.

I found a body in the garden today.

No. I'm serious. I found a dead body in a plastic grocery bag in the front garden today, tossed over the fence.

What sort of body? The world will never know, unless of course one of you, braver souls than I or two other members of the garden and two of New York's finest, want to untie the tripled bagged garbage bag and open that sucker up.

I joked, and still do, that this community garden is straight out of the movie The Funny Farm. Last week, lightening struck a tree in the back, today I found a body or chunk of body, a hooker's arm, or maybe Fluffy. I really have no idea. I'm terrified what will happen tomorrow.

Basically, all week I've smelled a sort of sweet stench of decay, what I imagine (and now know) that death smells like. I first blamed it on the girl next to my plot. I knew she was (finally) convinced that she needed to fertilize her plants and figured (feared) she had gone the blood and bone meal route. Terrible idea mostly because both of those just draw in our furry rodent friends and they both (surprise!) smell like death, cause well that's how dehydrating blood and pulverizing bone works. I was absolutely convinced everytime the wind blew a cloud of death towards me that it was her. Absolutely convinced, but there was just something missing, a piece of the puzzle, missing, nothing near her plot smelled like death, I even smelled the dirt, nothing, yet still DEATH.

Well today I had to get into the garden and get some WORK done. Having sent my friend packing on her cross country road trip and the garden in desperate need of some LOVE, especially after yesterday's frenzied 'THE GREEN BEANS ARE DONE AND OVERWHELMING ME AND SO THEY MUST GO' fest, I got down to business. Almost immediately DEATH smelled everywhere and still convinced that my neighbor, in her imagined free love and crunchy granola ways, brought the smell of death into the garden, I just tried to get on with my day and breathe out of my mouth.

I'm not sure what caused me to look up, or how a bag buried in the branches of a shrub in the front garden caught my eye, but instantly I knew. I had found the source. Well, long story short after getting two other members who lived nearby to come help and then collectively having a moment of WHAT IF IT'S A BODY we called the precinct who told us it was definitely a 911 call. I think the 911 operator thought I was insane, "Yes, no it's in a grocery bag, but it's double bagged and smells like death, there are flies everywhere, so I assume it's something that's not alive anymore. No, I have no intention of opening it, cat or not a cat, but it could also not be a cat and in that case I'd feel guilty chucking someone's bits out without calling someone whose job it is to open bags of mysterious smelly things." She told us help would be on its way and to call back if things change. Sure Lady, if the bag starts coming to life we'll call you back and let you know the zombie apocalypse started. Right.

The police eventually pulled up and we were told to bag it and let sanitation take care of it. I decided not to suggest 'IT MIGHT BE A BODY' because it's never a good idea to suggest to the police that the bag that smells like death, could have a body in it, because it might and then you're suspect number 1 and well I still had a cucumber trellis to stake. Some surprises are better left un-had.

In other news, my tomatoes have fungus and my legs are covered in mosquito bites. Like I said, this post is brought to you by a giant glass of wine (and Nicole, thanks for the wine!)

Mission: Accomplished.

It's always been about the tomatoes. Unless you grow tomatoes in your backyard, or if you live on a farm (and in that case, why haven't you invited me??), you just can't get a good tomato. Tomatoes you get in the grocery store are either a dull red that are hard as a rock or a beautiful red that are mushy as hell, whichever way, they're at best tasteless and at worst, plastic flavored. Unless you have some magic grocery store produce guy who conjures produce from heaven, those are your choices for tomatoes. It's really a consequence of the modern Agro-industrial complex, which demands year round produce in huge yields all at once. Most commercial tomatoes are picked green and pumped with ethylene which causes them to turn red, often times while they're in transit or far from the farm. Further, because tomatoes in the wild (like most plants) grow and produce fruit overtime and not all at once, modern industrially produced tomatoes have been breed to produce fruit all at once. What this has created is a hard, tasteless tomato. Now, of course, Farmer's Markets which offer fresher and tastier tomatoes than grocery stores, exists, they are both obscenely expensive and not as fresh as walking two blocks, picking a tomato off the vine and coming home and eating that fucker. 

And that's exactly what I did Monday night. My very good friend Nicole, who writes an awesome blog about vegan food and travel came to visit for a week from Berlin and while the tomato I planted so it would have fruit to eat when she was here, wasn't ready, two others were!

 Nom Nom Nom Nom
 It will be a matter of a few weeks before there's an epic avalanche of tomatoes and I'll be canning and jarring tomato yums well into the night. 

We made a really awesome pasta dish and while I'm totally game for pickling and preserving and showing that stuff here, I'm going to jet you over to Nicole's blog for the delicious tomato yumness that we made. You can find it here.

I'm having a moment

I'm having a moment.

I am not a very organized person, but I like to say (and to an extent, believe) that my chaos is planned. Growing up, as a result of my parenting, of course, my room was a mess, a royal mess. Like if the Queen was caught in an orgy, high on coke, dressed in a furry outfit, mess. But there were paths, I knew vaguely what was where, albeit crumpled on the floor, there was order in my chaos.

Now certainly as I've grown up, I've become better at periodically battling back the mess and making more order of the chaos. I like piles. Piles make any thing look more organized. It's perhaps a crutch to keep me from freaking out at the chaos, because in some small way, there is order, my order, in all the noise.

This is not the case with the garden right now.

I believed the cucumbers would stop at the top of the trellis. Where they would go after that, I have no idea, but they would stay where they were told to be, piled if you will, and though sprawling, they would be ordered.

I believed that the green beans would grow quickly and compactly, ordered between the rows of tomatoes, neatly in front of the potatoes and then they would be done and we could move on with the summer.

I believed that the patty pan squash would grow up and swirl neatly out, displacing the beans and the arugula, as their own season faded, politely taking their places, that were kept warm by them, earlier in the summer.

I believed that the potatoes would grow tall, flower and then fade, leaving behind mountains of potatoes, ready for the fall.

The tomatoes, I had such faith in, there was to be this genuis method of staking, weaving twine between the vines to hold them straight up, compactly and uniformly, held taunt by stakes placed at either end. They would reach upwards and be graceful and weave themselves effortlessly through the twine.

These are all things I believed. I had faith. There would be piles of vegetables and it would be ordered. I would conquer Mother Nature and make order of her chaos.

I will pause now and allow you to quiet down with your laughter. Done now? Great.

As I'm sure you've guessed by now, the garden is anything but ordered. Shit has literally gone bananas. I've taken to just walking through the garden staking plants up and tying back plants with twine and bamboo poles. Trying desperately to pile plants on top of themselves. It's not really working. Yesterday, in a fit, I ripped out two basil plants that I had planted next to the patty pan squashed, but that had now been subsumed by the squash. It was entirely reactionary; I put them in another part of the garden, but today they looked miserable. I can't blame them. 

Of course, this is a blessing, an actual gift, but it would have been nice if perhaps stuff stayed politely piled on top of themselves. Neatly. Really, the only thing that is at all ordered is the little herb garden I've planted on the side, in neat little bunches.

Tomorrow I'll have a really awesome post, where I'm not having a nutter panic attack episode. I promise. Stay tuned.

Bam: Canned Beans.

Today was a really great day. It's been pouring here on and off. One minute it's bright and sunny and the next it's the end of the world and you can slice the rain with a knife. The rain is good for the garden and the drop in temperature means that the tomatoes will set more fruit. They get very annoyed when it gets hotter than 80-85 and refuse to do anything. Me too, Mr and Ms. Tomato, Me Too. So during the burst of sun I dashed into the garden and decided the green beans had gotten big enough and it was time for pickin'. I got nearly a shopping bag worth of beans out of the first spit of beans that I planted way back in May, and there's still some nearly mature beans (which I'll probably save until my friend Nicole gets here) and a bunch of little baby beans. This harvest means I'll have fully recouped my money for any bean seeds I bought. If I haven't mentioned by now, with the odd cucumber I've gotten out of the cucumber vines, I've also recouped all the money I spent on cucumber plants. So far Mr Garden is pulling his weight.

What really made the day great though is I finally was able to accomplish one of the goals I had set out to do with this garden, pickle and jar things. Now I've made a couple of quick pickles with the few cucumbers I've gotten, but I'm talking water bath, mason jars, the full deal. A few of weeks ago I had bought as\ really awesome book (Food in Jars by Marisa McClellan, who has a really awesome website and whose recipe for Dilly Beans I used). Although I spent some of the later afternoon whining to my sister about being too tired (yes I complained about being tired to a mother of a 10 day old, either I'm a very brave man or my sister is a very forgiving soul, perhaps a nice combination of both), I decided tonight would be the night. And so bam:

Dilly Beans. Now I've got to wait 2 weeks until the flavor fully develops but I'm a sucker for anything dill flavored, so I'm excited to try.

Right now I'm debating how much more to show on here of what I can, just because I like to give canned stuff as part of my holiday presents to folks (I like giving DIY sorts of gifts more than just buying crap, it feels more heart-centered). We'll see. I know I will do a post or two of the tomatoes I can and it looks like by the end of the month I'll be swimming in tomatoes, so expect that at least.