At least it doesn't smell like Teen Spirit

Tonight at dinner we had baby cauliflower and broccoli (from the garden-brag brag), sauteed in some leftover bacon drippings- not enough to make them actually taste like bacon, but enough to make them plenty yummy. At least, that's what I thought. Jon doesn't comment on my cooking very often, beyond eating a reasonable amount of it and insisting that the kids eat it, too. Ben and Jillian both are having allergies, so they had a hard time tasting much of anything tonight.

And then there was Michaelson. He tasted a piece, pondered for a minute and asked "Mom, did you get this recipe from Dad's mom?"

"Uhh, no...why?"

"Because this tastes like Arizona."


Brassicas in bacon grease = Arizona. Did not know that. 

Balls Out

Not THOSE balls. These balls.

We live along a flood control channel. And when it rains, all manner of dreck is washed off the streets and into that channel. I dunno what the wierdest thing we have seen is- maybe a shopping cart? But aside from the appallingly predictable styrofoam flotsam, one of the things we see most often is play balls. Apparently it is common for kids to kick a ball over a fence and into a ditch. This year someone (no idea who) decided to start rounding up balls that get stranded on the rocks behind our house- then throw them over the fence into our yard.

30+ balls so far this year.

They just show up. One day there is nothing under the play structure but digging toys, the next day, I find this. (The chicken is ours, of course. Not sure what she was planning to do with that mini soccer ball.) 

Same with the trampoline. One day nothing but lanky grass underneath. Next day, half a dozen spherical plastic toys.

I've taken the best of the lot over to the school to be put back in service a few times now, but honestly, a lot of these balls have had it and should just be thrown away. So to whomever is out there bombing our yard with trashy balls- Please, stop.

In Case You Were Wondering

Pineapples grown in a greenhouse in a back yard in southern California taste just as good as the ones fresh off the plantation in Oahu. 

I have witnesses to prove it. 

Apple Attack? Lumber Lockdown

I planted a Gordon Apple sapling next to the trampoline last year. We've had this variety of apple before, so we know it grows well in Long Beach. (The fact that the old Gordon Apple tree was finally killed off by the combined effects of no less than two diseases and two simultaneous insect infestations is just evidence that a lot of things grow well in Long Beach.) The sapling I planted was a semi-dwarf, so I figured that by the time it was big enough to be a space concern, we wouldn't have little kids wanting a trampoline any more.

But I forgot about the fact that kids like to sit on the edge of the trampoline and mess with stuff.

In this particular case, they messed with the branches.

All of them.

Stripped off.

Not a single sideways twig left on this poor little whip of a sapling.

So I caged it.

Try and get your mangy paws through THAT, my dear destructive little children!

Promising Panicles

There were a few panicles of flowers on the Macadamia tree when I planted it last year, but they didn't survive the transplantation.

Perhaps the possibility of nuts is improved this year?

Happy Face

Jillian's dinner Wednesday. She said is was a "REALLY smiley face!" Apparently someone has been showing her photos of Groucho Marx?