Green

The greenhouses at the farm are amazing. St. John's readers: the Seed to Spoon Collective still has farm shares available for the coming season. I took home a bag of veggies today, and if this early bundle is any indication, membership is going to be a worthwhile investment. I ate a piece of turnip right out of the ground, and it was as crisp and smooth and sweet as an apple. I got the grand tour of the bursting greenhouses, the still-quiet fields, the musky "tomato sanctuary." The season doesn't officially start until June, but with this year's extra warm spring, members who have already joined up are getting surprise pack of glorious greens: salad mix, tatsoi, kale, lettuce, and a load more. They're sending me a proper list later - there are lots of "miscellaneous Asian greens" in there, and of course I can't remember which is which. I can tell you, though, that we had a brilliant stir-fry tonight, inspired by the serendipitous meeting of fresh greens and a new yard-sale wok.

The last time I set foot on the Liens' farm was the night of my high school grad. It's even cooler in the daylight. A little farm carved into what seems like ancient forest. Ancient in the east-coast way. Trees that may be three hundred old are still thin enough to grab around with your two hands. As soon as you walk beyond the limits of the fields, you're into the woods, with lichen and moss and ferns all around you. Furious B was a fairy princess, naturally. It's that kind of place.

It was so nice to get out of town for a couple hours - even though we didn't get the car back to my mom (um, yeah, we borrow cars) until way late and I still feel really bad about it. Hubby C and I figure we're probably going to need a vehicle of our own real soon. And it's going to have to be big. If we have one more youngster we'll never be able to get a lift with anyone ever again. And although you can certainly get by with children and no car, it would be really nice not to have to re-install the car seat every time we go somewhere. We can probably afford an old clunker of a van, but we still have to get over the major hurdle: the fact that I don't have the slightest clue how to drive. Yup. I feel kind of like that turkey there in the picture. Gobble gobble.