You can see the fun I had, yesterday morning.
We liberated this cracked pink kiddie pool from a vacant lot, in our neighborhood. I wrote about it for trike diaries 2, but you get to see the photos.
At home, I poked holes in it, with the cheapass awl. It was so easy, I felt like I must have poked holes in pools in a past life. We’re going to make it into a raised bed. I guess it’s not really raised. A little bit raised.
Remind me not to try non-wheat pastas. I had this brown rice pasta and thought it might be good, to make this special pasta salad with, but yuck! I’m like the kid who is given carob candy and spits it out and says, “That’s not chocolate!” I guess I’m a wheat fiend.
My friend lives in New Orleans and helps run a Catholic Worker house there but is from Las Vegas. A kid asked her, “What’s for dinner?”
My friend said, “Rice and beans.”
Then at dinner, the kid saw the beans were black beans and started crying. The kid believed all rice and beans, the beans should be red beans.
This is the funniest story I know about making a kid cry. We feel sorry for the kid, but we also learn something about New Orleans, maybe. Or something about beans.
I don’t like the pasta salad–I’m trying to find a way to redeem it. The problem is I was supposed to mix the dressing ingredients in a jar to shake them together, but I just threw them onto the pasta willynilly, so there’s a little area of soysauce, area of sesame oil, area of ground ginger…
I’m considering throwing in some water and vinegar and peanut butter and heating that up, and seeing if the liquid would help the ingredients mix better. What do you think? Or maybe it’s irredeemable.
I was telling Ming my ideas, and he said we should give the pasta salad to our community member who recently returned here. And then somehow finesse it, so we get him to make us eggplant parm. Hahahahaha!
“If you wanna bribe that guy for eggplant parm, you better do it with your own efforts, not mine. If I’m going to give him food, it’s going to be super-delicious food to honor him, not my reject food!” I chided Ming.
A volunteer came early and brought Ming some fast food breakfast, but he can never remember we’re vegetarian, so all the food had sausage in it. Ming gave it to that community member across the way.
“Did you ask him for eggplant parm, for it?” I asked. We were laughing, this morning.
Thank you for witnessing this true love. Ming’s buying some more soil. Hugs to all of you.