Match Maker

After a long day of internet searching, self diagnosis, and mild panic attacks, I discovered that my zucchini vine is not, after all, a master plant. It is a horny male with no ladies around and, because of a continued bee blight, my fruit flowers aren't having any sex! What I thought were neat little baby zucchinis are just really stems that aren't going to get any bigger. Ever.

The result of my research is that I have to wait for a sunny day (rare in Pittsburgh...it has rained for the past 30 days in a row...not exaggerating at all) when the flowers will bloom. Then, as soon as I see those big yellow suckers open up, I have to run out there with a Q-tip and rub it all over one flower, then rub it all over the other one. I have no idea which flowers are boys or girls, so I might make some lesbian zucchinis inadvertently. Either way, I need to pull a Yente and help my garden along.

All this time I've been feeling so smug about my advanced gardening skills! Turns out I am a total novice and it will be eons until I get any fruits.

Garden Mania

I think I'm starting to get boring. Every day, my first thought upon being awake is "Are my zucchinis edible yet??" I leap from bed and scramble into the yard to pick peas and just stare at my pumpkin vines. Sometimes I don't even remember to eat breakfast. I just stand in the backyard and smell the tomato plants. I was at a party yesterday after the Tour of PA and all I talked about was my garden. I saw people's eyes starting to glaze over, but I continued blabbering about the joys of weed picking.

Zucchini

There is a tiny zucchini living in my backyard. Actually, there are two of them. I nurtured them from wee little seeds and now they are nearly something to eat! The other day I walked back there to peek at the big, beautiful yellow flower growing out of the vine. As I got closer I saw that the flower was all shriveled and I got really upset, thinking the stray cat of the neighborhood got in there and messed stuff up.

When I climbed up the hill to the garden, I saw that the shriveled flower stuck out the end of an actual vegetable! (Or is it a fruit?) I got very excited and nearly picked and ate it, but I'm trying to behave and wait for it to be big enough for dinner. I just can't wait to roast it with olive oil and salt. Or just eat it like a popsicle as I run around the yard singing joyous songs. Peas and zucchini. I can grow food! Who would have ever imagined I would take joy in such simple things?

Fight Gone Bad

I am having a hard time getting out of bed today. I'm actually not really out of bed at all. I limped into my office to get my laptop and then crawled back into the sheets. My whole body feels like I played an 80-minute rugby game, yet somehow all I did was a 15-minute torturous Crossfit workout called Fight Gone Bad.

Every Monday and Wednesday, I sigh deeply as it gets closer to 8pm, when I know that the tiny blond woman--whose tight body bore three babies--is going to make me question the meaning of life and leave me so tired I can't push the clutch in when I drive home (Sometimes I pull out in second or third gear just so I don't have to shift). But I usually feel really amazing by the time it's all over, masochist that I am.

Something about that workout was different. I got a pretty bad score (215...one of my teammates had 318 and most had around 250) and didn't get the euphoric rush exercising usually brings me. Why is that? Maybe I'm disappointed in my performance. I've gotten used to being the slowest and last to finish on fitness drills, but strength work has always been, well, my strength.

Why couldn't I do more box jumps or deadlift/high-pulls or squats with a medicine ball? Sometimes I feel like no matter how far I drag myself forward, an inner slow, weak, fat girl is grabbing onto my ankle and hauling me away from my progress.

Compost

Today I have to drive my car to work, but it's all in the name of nature. I assure you. I am taking a composting class on the South Side tonight. There isn't time for me to bike home and get the car and drive it to the WYEP station (location of snazzy tour AND composting class!) and the class comes with a free, giant composting bin. There is just no way I can finagle such a thing on a bus or Etienne. It puts a strange feeling in my stomach, this knowledge that I'm about to drive the car to work.

But I have been looking forward to this class for months. I even rescheduled my jury duty summons to make sure I'd be available! Things are starting to pop up all over the place in the garden and I want to learn how to best feed the long vines and tall leafy carrots. I want to make compost better than I do currently with the heap of egg shells in the middle of the backyard.

Perhaps as penance for using the car today, I can travel by bus all weekend when my mom is visiting and introduce her to the wonder that is the 71A.