Monday, April 20, 2015



I know there will be cat hair on my pants when I get up from the sofa.
I know I shouldn't wear black pants at home for that reason.

I know the woodpecker will rob the hummingbird feeder,
big clumsy thug that he is, and in the process will tip it,
swing on it so half the liquid pours out onto the patio.
I know the ants will delight in the resulting syrupy feast
and rise up rejoicing, convinced there is a god.

I know I planted too much basil and the freezer
won't hold all the pesto it will make.
I know I really don't like dried basil as much as fresh,
but I'll dry some anyway so it doesn't go to waste.
Same with the dill. It's out there in the garden now,
waiting for me, wearing a righteous frown,
while I pretend I don't see it.

I know I shouldn't plant cilantro at all because I forget about it
and it always bolts before I've used much.
I know parsley is an annual here and not a biennial,
but still it pisses me off when it goes to seed its first year.

I know my grandmother was a terrible housekeeper
but a fantastic cook and gardener.
I know I'm a better housekeeper than she was,
but not necessarily by much.
I used to believe in brownies who would tidy up everything
if you left out bread and milk for them.
I know I should probably try it, because otherwise
how will I really know if they exist? Or not? And if they do,
who am I to rob them of gainful employment?

I suppose that sounds crazy, but wouldn't it be nice?
And bread and milk are cheap.
I know that if the brownie stories turned out to be true,
it would make me very happy.

          - Victoria Stefani

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