Matt has an expression he says regularly that cracks me up. “Ah, just take a teaspoon of cement and harden the f*** up already.” If there were ever a week to have a foreigner living in my home, entertaining me with his crazy antics, this is the week. Last night’s drama included having to select between House and 90210 — apparently both favorites. (Although he felt like a “proper pervert” after I told him how old some of those 9-0 girls are in reality.) Afterward we both sat on the couch trying not to laugh at our giant bowls of ice cream while we watched Biggest Loser. I am beginning to think my lack of crafting and lack of room in my waistband has something to do with my newfound after-dinner television time. Yikes.
Matt’s creation — some pasta/bacon/tomato/cheese casserole that was excellent. I needed a statin afterward, but I didn’t have to cook.
We are slowly transitioning from house guest to roommate mode in that I no longer blush when I had him the trash and point toward the door. He’s clean, funny and a pretty good cook. I’m keeping him around for a bit. {And just to avoid these email right off the bat — NO. No. He isn’t my boyfriend. He is happily involved with a sweet girl back home and NO.}
Now that I’ve resolved I’m not moving for a bit, although the new savings plan is going well (wow, do I spend way too much at Fresh & Easy), Matt is going to help me create a garden with the space I’ve got. This is going to be very, very interesting and may result in a fine from my HOA. See, we have some “communal” lands that are technically landscaped but are in need of some serious attention. There is a 4 x 6 foot rectangle of mangy land right in front of my home that would just be so much prettier as an herb garden. I’m going to plant first and potentially ask for forgiveness later. That cranky old HOA guy is going to have a hard time giving me a fine when he tastes something fabulous that came from the little illegal garden plot. Right?
I’m going to try the lasagna gardening technique I’ve been learning about thanks to the awesome Phoenix Urban hippie movement. Inevitably, this makes my staff think I’m verging on homelessness because I’m saving cardboard boxes and our shredded paper to haul home to put into my “communal” garden. (Did I mention today this includes hauling such materials on my bike? Wearing Birkenstocks? Yep, I think the happy hippie transformation is nearing completion.) While this project certainly could wait, now is a pretty good time considering I’ve got a glut of free manual labor (Matt), the land available (sorta), and there is a rumor going around Phoenix that the weather is downgrading from “Hell” to “Just Embarrassingly Sweaty” this weekend. All good things.
I’ve also been learning about native seed banks and how to get success from your first garden — while the earth is still adjusting from, say, random mangy rock plot to awesome garden of Eden — you should really plant what naturally grows in the region. For Phoenix, this includes gourds, squash, corn, beans, etc. I’m going to do a bit more research, but this online source seems to be the best for Arizonans. Also? Locally grown fruit trees. I want a lemon and a fig. They aren’t native, but I’m thinking of using some freelance cash to splurge for these babies. Mmm… figs. They are my Homer J equivalent to donuts.
Mmm… figs.
~K