Thursday, June 14, 2012

Peas in the Pod

Exhausted. Every time I'm feeling good, I over do it and then I crash. I'd be in bed right now but I can't convince J to go to bed at 6:30p.m., he's no dope. We went to Four Town Farms today, mainly to pick peas and secondarily strawberries. My very favorite thing to do is sit outside with J eating peas in the pod and they're hard to come by... stores rarely carry them and the growing season is short and easy to miss. Today we picked 3 lbs. and would have picked more, but my companion started hopping around and said that being around so many peas, made him need to pee.

So we headed in from the field, took care of that, and then picked some strawberries. I was over dressed and hot as hell, because I'm not supposed to be in the sun and when the woman at the scales told me there was a 3 lb. minimum for strawberries and we only had 1.85 lbs. and would have to go back out I wanted to cry. I looked at her and said "please don't make me go back out there, I don't think I can do it." "Really?" "Really!" Very grateful for that bit of rule breaking and compassionate humanism.

Skinny boy and I came home and sat outside eating peas and I said I was going to go in and lie down for a bit and he said "NO, I think you should stay here with me and keep chatting about random subjects." I stayed, and we did, he has so many worries about the environment and greedy corporations "only caring about the green of money and not the beautiful green of the earth." Luckily we were able to focus on the beautiful green of our peas and the trees next to the porch.

At the farm he pulled me aside and said I looked sad. I wasn't sad, I'm rarely sad, just tired. I told him I probably get that serious face when I'm tired or thinking, and he said no, it's a sad face. And that made me sad because it made him sad. Vicious circle of sad.

I think it's just how I look, I have frowny face inherited from my mother. They're called Marionette Lines and I'm always obsessing about them to friends who tell me I'm crazy. But boy thinks I'm sad and that's no good. Stupid genes.

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