Planting Garlic + Sneak Peak at Snowdrop Kisses + Self-checkout is GARBAGE
May I recommend
Planting garlic
Look, I keep trying and I keep failing to garden. Similar to my attitude to houseplants, I need my vegetable garden to just GROW without a lot of faffing around. Since getting a few raised beds and putting chicken wire cages around them to keep the gul’darned bunnies at bay, I have managed to grow lettuce (a bit sluggy, TBH); kale (slugs don’t like kale, but then, neither do I); and every single zucchini that has or will ever exist on planet earth.
Raspberry bushes are also very easy (and useful for JAM). Rhubarb has also flourished in my garden but really, who cares? There is only so much (very, very little) rhubarb that any one person needs.
Apart from all of the above, which admittedly when I write it down, seems like a lot, I have failed in almost every other vegetable attempt — Cucumbers? disaster! Peppers? Forget about it! Snow peas, carrots, green beans, onions, beets — Failures one and all. I say almost, however, because I have discovered the key to feeling smug and competent in the vegetable-growing department and that is to grow GARLIC.
Firstly, garlic is easy to grow. You just, literally, plant cloves of garlic. You probably have some sitting on your counter right now (although probs best if it’s organic cu they might spray stuff on the supermarket versions to inhibit growth). Secondly, you plant it now! Six weeks before the ground freezes. Now is the time to whip your garlic into the ground. NOW!
Thirdly, garlic pops up in the spring, despite how weird and cleggy and full of very old, very rusty nails and bunny poop your garden might be! Fourthly, garlic is awesome because unlike FUCKING RHUBARB, people actually want to eat it. Fifthly, you pick that garlic in early August and let it dry out for a couple of weeks and then it lasts for months and months. Sixthly, when it’s time to plant garlic in October? You USE THE GARLIC YOU ALREADY GREW! That means that you are self-sustaining!
Look at me, I am rich in garlic! I have escaped the tyranny of big garlic. Best part? Super easy. Second best part? Delicious garlic!
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Here’s an excerpt from the first chapter to see if it’s your bag:
Wendy parked and checked her appearance in the rear view mirror. The Santa hat was too big and frankly a bit dingy, but it covered most of her curly brown hair, which was good. She pulled the white beard up over her ears. It smelled like crusty socks. She grabbed an old lipstick from her purse and painted on the final touch: two round bright circles on her cheeks. Were they jolly, or did they make her look more disreputable, like a Santa who had one too many egg nog? Too late for second thoughts.
This morning was a singing-dancing delivery, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant. There was something pathetic about a twenty-six year-old woman belting out a tune while doing a frenzied Sugarplum Waltz at someone’s front door.
Nothing for it but to get out and give the bouquet to --she looked at her phone, “Sweet SnuggleTits. A million smooches, from Gavin.” She closed her eyes in pain.
Wendy leaned over and unlocked the passenger door. For the past few days the driver’s side of her fifteen-year old Honda refused to open. Her usual duct tape fix wouldn’t help in this case; and she didn’t have the excess cash to throw at any repairs that weren’t life threatening.
Wendy clambered over the stick shift to get out the passenger side. She pushed on the door, and groaned. She had parked beside a telephone pole, and could barely get the door opened. She’d have to wiggle herself out.
She couldn’t wedge herself through the opening going forward, so she tried backwards. A twist, a slither, a desperate squirm later, and somehow she was stuck. Her bottom was hanging out of the car, but her Santa belly had trapped her. Her face was planted in the passenger seat.
She braced her arms on the seat and pushed for all she was worth. The door bit into her side, and her arms strained with the effort. In desperation she rocked back and forth, finally popping out of the car like a champagne cork from a bottle. She stumbled and hit something soft but solid.
“Oomph,” Wendy managed as she steadied herself against this unexpected bulk.
“Damn!” exclaimed a deep male voice.
She turned and found herself staring at a large coffee stain spreading across a once-pristine white shirt.
“I’m so…” she began, yanking the nasty Santa beard out of her mouth. Her apology died on her lips. It had been a long time since Wendy had experienced such a visceral reaction to a man. Thick dark hair and great bone structure. His expensive-looking winter coat was open, exposing a well-cut suit, which only enhanced his lean frame and wide shoulders. He stood at least a foot taller than her five two.
“…Sorry,” she finished.
He stared down at his soaked shirt, ignoring her. Wendy’s gaze followed his. The fabric was plastered to his well-muscled body with its broad, broad chest.
“I hope I didn’t burn you.” She yanked the gross Santa hat from her head. It was itching.
“It’s iced-coffee,” he said brusquely, glancing over at her. His eyes crinkled into laugh lines as he took in her costume. “What’s your hurry? Looking for Rudolph?”
Article roundup!
I’m trying a new format this week - just listing a bunch of good articles that tickled my fancy. Let me know if you like this method better - Advantage: you get MORE articles. Disadvantage: you don’t get my brilliantly insightful commentary!
Self-checkout is a failed experiment
Margaret Atwood Reviews a Margaret Atwood Story by AI
Why Culture has Come to a Standstill
What Happens When Taylor Swift Goes Out to Dinner
Book Stuff
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OK, this is also very interesting - those dang Tudors…
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Oh, I do love this scene
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Love this series and I love love this actor, also Don, settle down.
Enjoyable for the last slide
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Thanks for a wonderful Sunday morning giggle. I tried to sign up for Snowdrop Kisses but reached a dead end. Obviously, I’m doing something wrong. HELP!