Tuesday, April 7, 2013: Keep, Toss or Name Wilson

Dear Babies,

There I was again, standing over the garbage can debating the fate of a bag of Cheez-its, empty except for a mere four, thinking of the floppy carrot.

In a great Dave Sedaris essay (which, from an editing standpoint, it redundant because they’re all great), he writes of his father’s inability to part with rotting food, biting into flimsy carrots, “what, they’re great!”

Lately I find myself thinking, am I being cheap, or recycling, reducing, reusing? Crap, am I really a hoarder??

Four Cheez-its, that’s a mouthful, why waste it? I rolled the bag and slipped it into my pocket–where it will be inevitably forgotten about and found three weeks later  when I will end up throwing it anyway, but still.

It’s not about the money, it’s about the principal, as if to counter all the sandwich triangles that get wasted when the dictator has spoken, “mama, no like this, no ham,” said so cold, when you just asked for friggin’ ham!…these Cheez-its, I will save!

I’m growing sprouts from an onion a good six inches long. “Please, throw that out,” your dad says. But I can’t. The onion kind of looks like a pineapple now. He’s my friend. He’s my Wilson. At this point, out of loyalty, I cannot throw the onion out.

Castaway

I stuck toothpicks in a budding potato and dangled him over a cup of water (yes, my potato is a him, another friend). He’s growing a lot of roots, I think maybe I’ll replant him. Can potatoes grow in this climate? Aren’t there Long Island potato farms??

(Add this to the list of important things I need to google, like when does Bachelor Pad start, which I won’t.)

The song “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol came on while driving this morning. I used to love walking around the City and listening to music. I thought I would miss this terribly when moving here, but now I drive and roll down the windows, which is nice, too…

There’s this line, “show me a garden that’s bursting into life.”

And I thought, how true.

Love,

Mom

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