Big Plans

I’m going to have a garden this year. 

I’m going to call my landlord and ask if I can have this geriatric-swingers-sounding gardening phenomenon known as a “raised bed.” 

I’m going to read The Postage Stamp Gardening Book that I have owned for over a decade but have never cracked open-not once.

I’m going to buy a hoe and a shovel, dig a ditch, and plant seeds in it. 

I’m going to weed my garden every week.

I’m going to water it every week. 

I’m going to love it. 

Assuming that writing this down is akin to revving an engine before putting it into drive, then all will be well, and I will document my progress for you because I am a city-dwelling, sushi-loving, cocktail-drinking gal about town who has historically found little use for a garden, and even less desire to tend it.    Can history be altered?  Can this Carrie Bradshaw wannabe be tamed into domestic, wholesome goodness?  Only time will tell.  But I am wondering, is the jury still out on drunken gardening, or has that been deemed lowly and depressing?  Also, could a “garden party” mean than everyone comes over and plants my seeds for me while wearing all white, or would that leave me friendless and void of garden?

Lastly, is it wrong to want a community garden but keep all the food for myself?  Because I only need the community for the work part, really.

In food news, I’ve been cooking.  Just simple things that bring me joy.  Tuna casserole with roasted garlic, sauteed mushrooms, scallions, baby peas, corn, and loads of cheese throughout.  Egg sandwiches late at night with extra sharp cheddar, sauteed onions, tomato, and thick ham.  Tonight we’ll be having Pasta Carbonara, and then it’s time to pat myself on the back for my weekday cost-cutting and treat myself to the lunch buffet at Mela for my weekly lunch date.  Taking myself to lunch on Fridays cannot be understated in its capacity for creating harmony in my life.  Since I’ve instituted Friday lunch date, I haven’t stood myself up a single time.  I highly recommend it. 

How are you slowly kissing your winter menus goodbye?