I want to get out in the garden

I’ve taken the day off and part of me wants to go outside and plant peas.
Unfortunately, it is rainy and cold out there. I could start some things up inside like I did last year. But still, gardening is more fun and more crime preventing when you are outside.
Yeah, I said crime preventing. Folks who don’t live here are a little less likely to hang around if residents regularly are puttering about in their yards. The public space that is my block needs me and my neighbors to make it our block and the way we make it more of our block and less of the dealers’ block is by being out there. That and a dash of unfriendly looks towards said dealers.
But that’s not the only reason why I want to get out and garden. I want peas. I want lots of peas. I remember the joy of fooling around in the yard, grabbing a peapod that looked just about right, and having some of the sweetest yummiest freshest peas ever. They rarely made it to the kitchen, ’cause I’d eat them before they got into the house. They were that good. I also want tomatoes. Fresh tomatoes good.
I wandered into the new Bed, Bath & Beyond down in fake Chinatown and saw a mini salad spinner that would be perfect for herbs. Last year I had more mint and basil than I knew what to do with. Hopefully having something to dry and process them with can let me make more regular and minty pesto.
Also the compost is calling my name. It should be quite composted by now, with the worms and all. I just need to separate the solids and the worms from the compost and start planting.
I really, really, want to start planting.

Brixton 2

Okay, this weekend I was in London and I figured I would do a gentrification tour. Well I didn’t get very far as the first day walking around Brixton, I walked so much that my ankles hurt. Then it did not help that I got sick and spent half of my vacation close to the hotel, in bed.
There is the very busy Brixton that I remember near the Tube station, with the market where one could buy halel meat, fish, fruit, cheap clothing items, beauty supplies, what have you. Go a few more blocks away into the residential sections, where I rarely went before, and it is quiet. Of course, it could have been quiet because it was the middle of the day on a Friday. I took a few pictures and wandered around and managed to talk to one person. I had already walked around “Poet’s Corner” and up to Herne Hill and was making my way to another part of Brixton, cutting through Brockwell Park. The park is big, almost as big as Roosevelt Island here in DC, but without all the trees. I was comparing my map with one the park’s “you are here” spray painted over maps when one of the natives asked if I needed any help. The native was a middle aged white woman pushing a 2-3 year old red headed kid, who had lived in the States but relocated back to the UK. I asked about the neighborhood and she said she liked it because it was very child friendly. There was a playground where I had seen a bunch of kids, who from a distance seemed like a non-white crowd. She said near the playground was a building that the kids could go into for activities. I must note that the majority of kids I saw were under the age of 12. Not a lot of surly teens. I’d also seen a mother and child over by one of the duck ponds feeding the ducks and geese. The woman I was talking to told me that at night the ducks and the geese take over, they come out of the ponds joining other ducks from other areas and wander the park.
She considered the area to be friendly.