The Wrath of Potted Plants
I think the gush may have worn out.
I was so super fucking pumped when the area farmers’ markets started opening this season, I truly was. But spring must go. I don’t care if my hair suffers from the apocalyptic humidity, I need tomatoes!
After a few weeks of the same foods, I’m getting a bit frustrated. I’ve messed with arugula (here, here) and asparagus (here, here) and I’ve even tried garlic chives (not in love) and beet greens (not very exciting). And fine, I did pick up a pint of strawberries, but I’m still waiting for the big guns.
Then there are the rows and rows of potted plants. Yet another painful reminder that I live on the 6th floor of an apartment building with no balcony or rooftop deck. Oh how I would lovingly tend to tomato plants, eggplant, zucchini, squash, spinach, peppers… Okay, actually, I would pay someone to do it. I suffer from helminthophobia.
But, there is some hope. 80 and I have recently introduced live edibles into our apartment. We are trying to grow both sweet and purple ruffle basil, cilantro, chives and thyme. Artsy photo to come.