the crew

If you're wondering who we are... (see other posts for smokey joe and little one.)

papa m

big t

little t

gomez


birdie

God bless america!

madonna and machetes... a perfect sabbath for heretics.

perfectly good sabbath for subcommandante terrordrome to chop the fuck out of some invasive ivy. with madonna blasting in from across the way. ¡real material girls know how to swing!

community organizizing

The beds in the front are coming together which means Smokey Joe doesn't get to play ball out there any more. Once Papa and I (and the new WWOOFers) did the double dig and added some compost, they started looking more like burial plots than vegetable beds. So T and T are going to use some of the extra flagstone to make head stones for each bed. (Can you tell some of us are obsessed with Dexter?) Like Little T said, "the more food we plant, the creepier we can be."

Since Superbowl Sunday, we've gotten all the stone up and planted about 75% -- carrots, squash, red peppers, spinach, kale, melons, lettuce, broccoli, onions, cucumbers, beets, and cilantro are all in. A bunch of other seeds are germinating in the window, too. Oh, and the fruit trees and strawberries are on the side.

test test test 12121212

Is this thing on?

from the grave...

kinda sad diggin' up 80 years of other people's memories. the old toys. the bottle caps. the broken fanbelts.... but brussels sprouts and persimmons may just make up for it.

the process banana

the bricks came up with a beer or two. the worms looked a little chuffed that we'd undone their asylum and opened the dank riverbed soil to the light of day. but fuck it. we had a banana pup to transplant. and besides, we were processing. life. love. loneliness. gayness. straightness. connection and those that miss. lots of experience but still navigating through life heartfuckingfirst. 'cuz what else is there when it really comes down to it?