A Bumper Crop With Plenty To Share

"Poke had never shared out so many raisins,

because she had never had so many to share."

-- Orson Scott Card, Ender's Shadow

Bumper crop of garden-variety Barbies 9-13-14

"The little I have, I share with you;

the little you have, you also share with me.

Together we all have a full share of everything."

-- Israelmore Ayivor

"Give it away give it away give it away give it away now
Give it away give it away give it away give it away now
Give it away give it away give it away give it away now."

-- Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Give it Away"

I can still remember my grandpa filling my sister's little flowered bicycle basket with tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers, then sending her teetering off down the street to sell his overage to the neighbors for a nickel apiece.

He had extra, so why not share?

I like the idea, but not so much the approach.

I'd rather just share, without the middle-man, or the hefty price tag.

Right now I have more tomatoes, peppers and broccoli than I can possibly use, popping up and ripening in my garden every day.

After yesterday's picking I walked over to my neighbor, Vera's, and held out the colander full of peppers and tomatoes like a big, plentiful basket of Halloween candy and let her choose the biggest, prettiest ones.

I've been sending Leo's girlfriend, Mackenna, home with bunches of broccoli. Broccoli is her favorite. She calls it her "go-to" vegetable. Tomatoes too -- her grandma makes tomato sandwiches, like me.

This weekend, I'm cooking a big pile of tomatoes into a third batch of sauce to share with Sam so he can still eat a home-cooked supper when he's away from home. Granted, he's a good cook himself. He keeps texting me pictures of things he makes -- steak au poivre sandwiches, grilled salmon with asparagus, and Greek salad stuffed pitas. It's impressive. But I know damned well that the little shit ain't making his own pasta sauce. I can still do some things that he can't.

Anyway, part of the joy of having my garden is sharing what comes out of it. And not just sharing because I have too much. But sharing because I have any at all.

I even like to share the harvesting duties. Sometimes I wait on purpose to pick stuff until Mackenna is here to help me, because she enjoys it too. And I enjoy her company. (She was also a very helpful assistant in setting up the bumper crop of garden-variety Barbies for today's photo).

My garden will be winding down soon. But while it keeps on producing an abundance of goodness, I'll keep on giving it away.

Because the only thing sweeter than finding good things, is sharing all the good things that I find.

A True Friend

"The more you try to crush your true nature,

the more it will control you.

Be what you are.

No one who really loves you will stop."

-- Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

For Jill, on her birthday 1-16-14

"To be one's self, and unafraid whether right or wrong,

is more admirable than the easy cowardice

of surrender to conformity."

-- Irving Wallace

For the past couple of years, on her birthday, I have created special photographs for my friend Jill.

It's my way of saying, in the most personal and expressive way I can think of, how much I love this quirky, kinky, hilarious, courageous, intelligent, wry, adventurous, multi-talented, traveling, against-the-grain woman.

Jill came into my life 10 years ago, and sometimes I wonder how I survived all those years before we met. You know how there are some people who just "get" you? Who seem cut from the same cloth? Cast from the same die? Who don't make you feel stupid for crying at the end of Black Swan, but who cry along with you, and then sit with you in a coffee shop for hours afterwards talking about why it was so goddamned beautiful? Who will eat her weight in your homemade rhubarb crumble? Who'll travel all the way to Australia and buy you a Devil Bride Doll ("with Jellybeans!") in a creepy deserted candy shop because it made her think of you, and because she figures you might be able to "use her for some kind of art."

Which is exactly what I did. I used the doll Jill sent me (stripped of her sassy pink capris, but still wearing her red t-strap pumps), along with one I found at the thrift store (which came naked, except for the pink fetish boots), as well as a bunch of naked Barbies, to illustrate our friendship as I see it. (Note: Jill and I don't actually look like these dolls. I'm being figurative here, not literal. It's an illustration. Although I wouldn't be surprised if Jill has those boots.)

Anyway, Jill isn't like anybody else I know, which is an enormous part of her charm. She inspires me to be as fully and completely and unapologetically myself as I can possibly dare to be, because that's exactly what she does. And I wouldn't have her any other way.

Now maybe you can see why a Hallmark birthday card would be way too ordinary.

All I can say is, knowing Jill is not just a good thing, it's one of the best things. And if you're lucky enough to have a friend like her, then you're lucky enough.

How come whenever it's her birthday, I feel like I'm the one who got the gift?