It is brilliantly sunny here, and cool and beautiful. The telephone rang, which it almost never does now since we e-mail and leave messages on cellular telephones.
I was instantly transported to the twentieth century and indeed, it was a twentieth century person calling me — my yard man.
He was at the plant store and had seen seedlings of broccoli, cabbage, lettuce, and cauliflower, should he pick some up and bring them to me for a winter garden? Yes, I said, I will add them to my onions. We were speaking in Creole French.
So he came and was dressed for church in Western boots and they were healthy seedlings, and I have planted them alongside the onions and I have a real garden now, just like Johnny Crow.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 