it's been a while since i've had anything to say here, dear reader, or, indeed, much of anywhere else.
but i've been enjoying the leading edge of spring here, lately, as my yard begins to reveal its flora.
(also, i have brutally abused much of said flora, having finally been able to make a little bit of headway against the enormous and entrenched patch of (what i think is) english ivy: the desiccated, if not cold and frosty, winter soil became much more friable so the many runners are somewhat easier to tear up, until it rains and bakes in again.)
i gossiped with several neighbors one afternoon while out pruning (or, as i'm new here, it would probably be more accurate to say i listened to neighbors talk about the neighborhood, inferring the quality of gossip from tone, posture, subtext and negative space among the sundry narrations), and planted some sunflowers about which i'm not too confident.
but the reason i write just now is to report that today i made a weed omelet!
i know what you're thinking, but i did not do that: that would be somewhat more involved, i would be disinclined to tell you about it publicly, and i don't think it would taste very good.
what i did was eat my yard weeds: spring onions and dandelion greens.
it was very satisfying in conception: humbly rooting here and there in the yard for things i had not cultivated, washing, preparing (with supermarket eggs) and eating them. in execution, it was a bit haphazard . . . in keeping, i suppose with the voluntary and opportunistic nature of the meal. the omelet itself was nothing to write home about, but serviceable. and i am home already: that's the whole point of the weed omelet.
(and, so far, there have been no adverse gastric phenomena)
now, maybe time to brush up on ways to harvest and prepare cicada!