Thursday, July 26, 2007

Choices, watermelon, gardening.

1. At the sandwich shop, they ask me to choose my piece of bread pudding from the dish.

2. The watermelon of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. He sliced it up and brought it round to our desks in green bowls. It looked beautiful and it was as cold and sweet and crisp as a watermelon should be.

3. Almost smothered by the bean vine and the tomato plant, our squash has flowered.

Cheese holes, eerie and back at the table.

1. My nephew likes cheese, but only the holes, which I carefully snip out with kitchen scissors. 2. I feel a little bit sorry for the comput...