I think it has been well-documented on this site that I am not a cool person. Like, at all. There was
the love letter to my dishpan (we're still very happy together, by the way), the stellar
movie review for "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle" (M.C. Hammer! C'mon!), the
photo essay of potatoes, tomatoes, and me in my geeky hat in the garden. And now, to put a final nail in the coolness coffin, I am compelled to share with you my RIDICULOUS EXCITEMENT about . . . a garden tote. But I will not be ashamed any longer! I will embrace my lameness and proudly display it to the world! (Like I haven't been doing that already.)
Meet my new best friend. This garden tote was sent to A. for finally renewing his Nature Conservancy membership. But since I wrote the check, filled out the form, and mailed the thing, I claimed the garden tote. Besides, A. wouldn't have properly appreciated it. He's cooler than me.
Those gloves look kinda creepy, don't they?
Yesterday, after a run to
the junkyard, we went to Home Depot. Nothing is more American than scrap metal and a warehouse-type home improvement store, am I right? ANYWAY, I went just so I could buy my very own tools for my pretty new tote. So I got a trowel, some pruning shears, and a big ball of sisal twine (for tying up tomatoes). I already had a nice pair of leather work gloves (bright pink-- because a girl has to be stylish even while wallowing in dirt). And as soon as we got home, I lovingly placed them in my friend the tote.
Look! Look at how clever! Notice the handy pockets, the convenient handles! And take note of the fact that everything in this tote will STAY IN THIS TOTE, and NO ONE ELSE CAN USE MY TOOLS. Got it, A. and the MiL? No more will I spend ten minutes searching for the trowel or a pair of scissors. I will know where everything is and I can just get to work.
As you can see, I had an exciting holiday. How was yours?
8 comments:
Um, those gloves really do look like a dead hand. Gross.
We did very little on the 4th. Supposed to kayak today (5th) but the weather has turned.
I did eat a radish out of the garden. It was the size of, um, let's see... half of a dime? Maybe the diameter of a pencil and as long as a dime. So yeah, kinda pathetic. And much peppery-er than I thought. Hope i don't dislike the French breakfast, as those are mostly what I planted!
Peace out!
I absolutely cannot eat rashishes straight--but they are delicious thinly sliced in salads. Also, at a cookout yesterday, someone told me I should try them cooked. Like, sliced and stir-fried. He said they have a totally different flavor. Worth a shot, anyway.
I'm sauteing beet greens (we thinned them today) with scallions, radishes (another victim of thinning), and peas tonight so we'll see how cooked radishes taste.
Hey, that garden tote is pure hotness and don't let anyone tell you different.
Yikes! Those gloves look exactly like hands. Anyone else remember that Pee Wee special from HBO where Jambi gets his hands? Anyone? Well, your gloves reminded me of that.
"And take note of the fact that everything in this tote will STAY IN THIS TOTE, and NO ONE ELSE CAN USE MY TOOLS."
Yeah, good luck with that. I keep putting the kitchen shears in the knife block and then expecting them to still be there when I need them. I'll learn someday, really I will.
Umm,
does that mean that you won't help me find mine any more? I maybe in trouble.
There are many tools and gloves around here emblazoned with MOM.
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