Wednesday, March 23, 2011

my apartment wont let me have pets so I grow my own

It's funny how frequently I am reminded that I really am my parents' daughter. I've long since grown out of any rebellious teenager tendencies, in fact I'm not sure if I ever did much more than run away to Italy (twice)(with their permission...) to begin with. These days I've spent enough time away from home, had my space to be my own person, and found my place in philadelphia that I can happily say that my parents and I are friends. I love that. Lately though, I can't help but notice how many similarities there are between the three of us. Biking, designing, running, cooking, fluency in schipperke... and now I have added gardening to the list. That uncontrollable urge to grow food. It makes sense, I grew up in gardens. Between my moms enormous gated vegetable palace, my mini garden by the play set, or the rows of popcorn dad had out back there was always something growing. So it seems only natural that I start my own little experiment up here on the 19th floor.

Last month I adopted a chia pet and a cactus. This month I decided lugging a bag full of horse poop back from the suburbs sounded like a good idea. So now I am making (hopefully!) good use of the endless sunlight I get up here. This weekend seeds were planted, the chia got a new coat and I started a sprouting operation to keep me busy until the babies grow tall enough to peek out of the dirt. Luckily the alfalfa sprouts have already started to do their thing. They're as close to instant gratification as I am going to get right now. Waiting on seeds is an endurance test on the modern attention span...


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