My Lovely Patch of Wilderness

I haphazardly planted herbs and vegetables this year (and a few impatiens). Last year was such a disaster what with the chiggers, lead contamination, snakes, overabundance of weeds and no tomatoes to speak of. Scoring the current apartment almost makes last year's ordeal worth it. Our current landlord fixes things AND has someone mow the lawn every week. Amazing. Our neighbors are fantastic: Pat gave me tips about weeds and has extended an open invitation for wine at his and his wife's fire pit; Eric the chef had a block party and loans me tools; and Patrick helped me push my car out of the snow. The only ones I'm not fond of are the downstairs neighbors who still use our dryer but no longer have loud sex (thanks to our awesome landlord). In fact, Amanda found a ginormous pair of men's underwear in the dryer that she tried to explain away as one of our friend's until she realize how big it was at which point she tossed it quickly on their washer.

I have got to get over it, but everything they do irks me: the dryer, the satellite dish, hideous lawn ornaments (an angry dog gargoyle, mushrooms and a stone starfish) and running the air conditioner when it's 70 degrees outside. Truly, now that they don't keep me awake at night, they keep to themselves, so it's not big deal. I hardly ever see them even though I'm out weeding in the backyard daily. They probably think I'm this crazy girl who hangs her washing on the line and is obsessed with her plants. It's true I'm totally obsessed.

I give Amanda and my mom daily updates on the progress of the plants. The tomatoes all have flowers and one even has the teeniest tiniest tomato. There is a little bity cucumber. And the herbs (dill, cilantro, rosemary, sage, thyme and two kinds of basil) are proliferating. The basil leaves are humongous and, come last weekend, were in desperate need of pruning. I could practically hear them speaking to me, "Pesto, we would make the best pesto. Put us in a bruschetta. Tear us into a tomato salad. Please, anything." Without ripe tomatoes, pesto was the best choice. I paired it with cream cheese and crackers at a barbecue, and it disappeared.

Pesto recipe here. I added a teaspoon or so of lemon juice to give it some zing.