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Grass, man.

March 14, 2010

Today was a gorgeous day in south Texas–sunshine, clear skies, temperate weather, and it’s the weekend. Because it is the first weekend of Spring Break, I did my very best to sleep as late as possible. I feel like I am still recuperating from the last few months of moving and travel, and I see the rest as explicitly therapeutic. After I did wake up I read in bed for a while until I noticed out the window that Geoff was working in the garden. Since the garden is my responsibility I quickly got dressed and went out to help. Geoff helped me do some weeding. I still have a little bit of trouble distinguishing between baby plants and baby weeds, but the plants are getting big enough that I can basically tell the difference. We picked some weeds by hand and we used the hoe to get the rest. Geoff also taught me how to transplant seedlings so that they would not be too crowded. I also got to use my new machete today to prune some wayward bamboo. The machete got the job done, but it needs to be sharpened before I can really do some damage to the encroaching bamboo. Scooter and Bailey proved once again why they are unemployable. Scooter kept stepping in the garden and Bailey kept dropping her duck toy on the corn. Because of the trauma their antics caused to my potted herbs we had to replant and then set the herbs up inside until they sprout.

I am excited for my garden to grow, but until then, I am more than happy to go to the Pearl Brewery Farmers Market ( Yesterday I met my friends Amanda and Adele there. They had run, but I was still participating in my Spring Break Sleep Rejuvenation Program, so I drove. In addition to the abundance of great local produce, meat, and dairy products, there were also a lot of fun people there. I ran into a couple that Geoff and I know and it turns out they are moving to Kentucky the day before we are. The husband in the couple just got hired as a professor at the University of Kentucky College of Law. They were both wearing KY t-shirts, as was I. It was a pretty unbelievable coincidence that we are all moving to Kentucky in just a few short months. I am very excited to at least know someone in the area, and I am happy to know that we have our first potential customers lined up. My mom would say it’s a sign. I am prepared to admit that it is a happy coincidence.

Grass is the theme of this weekend. Let me explain: Yesterday at the farmers market Adele and  I bought some grass-fed beef from a great local farm called L&M Ranch ( I had read all about them before when I searched for local grass-fed beef producers on  It was very exciting to meet the farmer in person. Last night my friend Angela hosted us at her house as we dined on the grass-fed burgers Adele purchased, some organic wine, and some deserts that I picked up made with hormone free dairy products. It was a great meal and evening conversation brought to us in part, by grass.

Today, Geoff began preparing a grass-fed chuck roast that I bought yesterday. It has been slow cooking for the last five hours and smells divine. While he worked on that I went for I nice walk through the neighborhood. The mountain laurel are in bloom, in addition to many other beautiful flowering plants. When I came back I felt a little ashamed about the condition of our rental house lawn, so I decided to do something about it. Mowing the lawn would have been a purely academic exercise. There was no grass to mow. Instead there was an ecosystem of weeds to destroy. More aptly, to eat. So I got out the weed eater and ate with a vengeance. In fact I weed ate so furiously that I used up all of the juice in the electric weed eater. It is now charging, slowly, and the yard remains partially weed-eaten. Partial weed eradication is still an improvement though. I long for the time, about a year from now, when the job of weed eating will belong to one of our goats and not an electric device. I also long for the day when our lawns are filled with luscious flowing grass of all varieties that are daily enjoyed by various species of healthy herbivores.

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