Speaking of "the garden"... we have yet to be kicked out. Our collective effort is going very well. It was one of the things I promised myself we would have if we left New York. I wouldn't call it a "bucket list" item, but it was a meager want of mine. We don't actually have our own garden yet, we are sharing the backyard garden space of Matt and Lisa, but that makes it more fun. It's sort of a community garden effect, even though they can have a trespassing warrant filed against us if they choose to. There has been no talk of a trespassing warrant yet. I am just being prepared. If I happen to eat from the beanstalk of knowledge, or the pumpkin of life, etc.
"We are stardust, billion year old carbon. We are golden, caught in the devil's bargain. And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden." - Joni Mitchell
Yes, indeed. I am becoming a hippie, losing my edge. California has made my brain soft. I find myself sitting contentedly in silence and reading, gazing out upon the grass and trees in the backyard and thinking to myself, "How pleasant..." I talk very earnestly, and endlessly, about what zodiacal signs people are, or might be. I pray to rocks, for healing power. The other day I burped and tasted applesauce. That's how much my brain has turned to mush. This place has melted my cerebrum, converting it into a wet, pulpy mass that smells and tastes just like applesauce.
It's what happens to apples after they leave the garden.