The Divine Light of the Curmudgocene

"Thou shalt growest in thy multitude and makest baked artichokes with garlic, olive oil and breadcrumbs," said He (She), before sendingest down the light. On the first day there were artichokes but on the second day we got kale, arugula, rosemary, potatoes and peas, and it turned out they all taste great cooked together.



Every Spring, same pictures. The artichokes fan, the potatoes jump out of the tubs, chives spread their tasty little fingers, arugula is everywhere, kale and rosemary are already in flower. Cut off those flowers and the plants just keep pumping.

When Plotnik grew up in the suburb of the Suburb, he didn't know from these things, and if he had he would have considered them boring. But once he got to Catawissa, PA, he discovered how amazingly cool it is that the ground is hard as a rock one day and the next day it is riddled with green shoots and then every day after that you get to watch the renewing process in action.

And now that he is in his Early Middle Old Age (geologists call it the Curmudgocene), it's still a surprise, every Spring, every year, every plant. Bang! Hi There! I'm a potato vine! Bang! And I'm a clivia! Mucho gusto!