D.C. NOTES

secondroughdraft

The following is a re-write of an email by which I updated friends about my father’s plot in a victory garden. I’ve fictionalized the facts to protect the identity of the birds, the people, but not the place. It’s still D.C.


THE ANGULAR BIRDS OF (GRAPE) PREY

I had had it with these brownish birds with the aggressive look. They'd land above my head, in the grapevine, to pick the sour grapes, and relieve themselves on me. I would interrupt my reading, stand up and shoo them. They would ignore me. I would touch them, lightly. They’d leave, only to return moments later and eat and relieve themselves.

I found the answer. I bought two small “power squirt-ers,” filled them to the hilt, and waited. The fun I had squirting them from below. Amazingly, even after a couple of squirts, they’d still think for a second or two before they’d leave.

Okay, now the angular and aggressive birds are gone, in part because of my efficient squirting of their butts, in part because they’ve eaten nearly all the grapes. I’ve declared victory and moved on. I’ve first considered landing on an aircraft carrier, but I doubted our Navy would spend all the money on me to land on one of theirs to declare victory before the troops.


A FIGHT WITH WATER: WILLIAM AND ROBERT

William and Robert, both around seven years of age, one without front teeth, dropped in on my father. I was there. William is Dennis the Menace incarnate, only ten times worse (or better?) He’s forever trying to help my 82-year old father with his garden tasks, screwing things royally, but convinced he’s not.

I gave the two the power squirt-ers. They began a fight with water. But, very soon after they started, they instinctively ganged up on me. I was defenseless.

William’s mother gave me a nod. I picked up a small bucket, filled it with water, many, many, times, and repeatedly dashed an impressive stream of water onto them. I was able to do it because the two lacked the cunning of disappearing, hiding, then surprising the enemy. I did it the Hezbollah way, you could say.

William tried. He was fearless. But, in the end, holding a full bucket of water above his head, he handed me his squirt-er and ordered Robert to do the same.

The two boys went home totally wet, especially William. But–boy were they happy.


OKRA: TONS OF IT BUT I’M STILL WAITING FOR JENNIFER TO SEND ME HER GRANDMOTHER’S RECIPE

The Okra is prolific. You need to pick it daily, maybe even every half a day. I’ve never liked it much. But Jennifer promised to send me her Michigan grandmother’s recipe. I’ll wait and will keep an open mind.

Miriam, and Afghani friend, sent me hers. But it’s no different than the Lebanese, mainly.

The mlukhieh is thriving. And why shouldn’t it? For all practical purposes, it’s growing in an environment similar to where it comes from: the Nile Valley of Egypt. It’s one hundred degrees here and there’s plenty of water.

For those who don’t know: mlukhieh is basically the Egyptian equivalent to spinach. Only problem: it packs as much mucus as okra. Never liked it.

The tomatoes are aplenty. Victory Garden has begun a program of sending the surplus (that’s 98% of the crop) to a homeless shelter. Though I had no standing, I recommended instead that they sell the crop to WholeFood. People thought I was callous. I didn’t understand them.

Parsely, basil, Lebanese badriyyeh string beans–all are doing well.

THE FAUNA

The golden finches still are doing their acrobatics to reach each and every sunflower seed. The hummingbird, freakish-looking, leaves its trumpet vine and relaxes on the wire holding the string beans. (I had never thought it ever relaxed; but now I know it does.) The cardinal still waits on the floor of the garden for the sunflower seeds that escape the acrobatic finches. It also likes the seeds of the Swiss chard. The woodpecker hasn’t given up on a rotted wooden pole, standing sideways by a fence. Wrens are about. Chipmunks are all over the place, sharing the tomatoes with the homeless. The deer visits mostly at night, though at times it visits during the day. And once a fawn was having the time of its life running about. Garden snakes are all over. And mosquitoes eat you alive not a second later after sundown.