Greens

This week the happy hippy lady at the farmer's market was having a 2 for 1 deal so I got a head of Simpson's black seed and one of speckled lettuce (which dates back to 1660!) for just two American dollars. Such a bargain. Then I visited the married man-slut farmer who flirts with everyone and bought a tomato and some beans. He wanted to know what the good word was but I was too slow on the uptake to give him anything, although after awhile I came out with a half-hearted pierogi after he said something to me in Russian that he said meant "beets."

Then when I got home I decided to treat the Daphs to some kitty greens, also known as the lawn. When I walked in with a handful of it she literally howled at me and kept howling until I fed it to her in clumps, which she ate sideways making munchmunchmunchpurrrrrrrmunchmunchmunchpurrrrrrrrrr sounds. Now she's napping on her ottoman. I suspect she'll throw up later.

I'm glad to say that greens don't have that affect on me, however, and that I shall be eating a large salad with greens in it for dinner. (Oh and also a grinder with pepper turkey, brown sugar ham, provolone and lorraine swiss cheese, mayo, mustard, and more lettuce. and pita chips.)