Thank you for your order #******* from Seed Savers Exchange. This e-mail is your order confirmation. You will receive a printed invoice with your shipment. Regular USPS mail orders take an average of 2-3 business days to leave SSE’s warehouse, plus delivery time (an extra 3-7 days). (Note: Orders placed on Friday will be entered the following Monday) Expedited shipping methods take 24 hours to leave SSE’s warehouse, plus delivery time (orders placed on Friday will be entered the following Monday). ————————————————————————— ITEM# DESCRIPTION QTY TOTAL ————————————————————————— 269APACKET Anise 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 271(OG)APACKET Genovese Basil 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 279(OG)APACKET Giant from Italy Parsley 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 275(OG)APACKET Cilantro 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 611(OG)APACKET Burpee’s Golden Beet 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 358(OG)APACKET Scarlet Nantes Carrot 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1024APACKET Seed Savers Lettuce Mixture 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 625(OG)APACKET Red Russian Kale 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 939APACKET Amish Snap Pea 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 239(OG)APACKET Jimmy Nardello’s Sweet Italian Frying P1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1044APACKET Orange Bell Pepper 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1398APACKET Wenk’s Yellow Hots Pepper 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1449(OG)APACKETMonnopa Spinach 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 46(OG)APACKET Five Color Silverbeet Swiss Chard 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1352APACKET Potimarron Squash 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 439APACKET Federle Tomato 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 446(OG)APACKET Moonglow Tomato 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 109(OG)APACKET Mexico Midget Tomato 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 323APACKET Aztec Sun Sunflower 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1090APACKET Orange Sun Sunflower 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 294APACKET Zebrina 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 986APACKET California Poppy Mixture 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1321APACKET Indian Prince 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— 1072APACKET Strawflower Mixture “King-Size” 1.00 $2.75 Ship Via: FIRST CLASS - USPS ————————————————————————— SUB TOTAL: $66.00 TAX: $0.00 SHIPPING: $9.00 ORDER TOTAL: $75.00

It’s been awhile since our dial-up days, but that’s what I’ve got until Sunday. Until then:

You’d never know it from the photo above, but these two cats don’t like each other at all. There’s a lot of backstory and family humor where these two - OJ and Mr. Teacups - are involved, but I’ll spare you. ****** Yesterday’s snow day was fun, but today’s - which was called for yesterday afternoon - seems excessive; Mother Nature’s timing on this one, in my opinion, is terrible. But… this is the first Minnesota-like snowfall I’ve seen since arriving in Illinois in July 1991. I spotted a snowmobile track in some fields out in the country last week - we’d had 5″ of snow the week before - and I grinned my recognition right out the window. I’ve been in Illinois for almost 16 years, which is almost twice what I spent in Minnesota, but I think I’m still a MN girl, deep down. [January 1991, MPLS, stands out in my memory. I have a vivid recollection of being at the CC Club with my friend Lisa on a crazy cold and snowy January afternoon, Soul Asylum on the jukebox and footage of assembling troops on the TV, cigarette after cigarette being smoked and extinguished and beer after beer being finished. That same week I think there was a huge blizzard; Lisa and I walked in the snow to a liquor store, bought a case of beer, and carried it back between us in the knee-deep snow. We stopped at the Uptown (which was around the corner from my apartment and thus my neighborhood bar) to see if anyone was around. We knew something had happened when we walked in - laughing, covered with snow, hands surely frostbitten - and the lights were on, no music playing, silence reigning over the 15 or so souls gathered there. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the television above the bar; the invasion had begun. The bar remained silent. We trudged back to my place in the snow, the case of beer between us. I’m pretty sure we drank most of it that night. After that, watching the war on TV at a guy named Michael’s house became a post-bar activity.] February is a difficult month. I find myself anxiously awaiting March, with its seedlings under lights, its random 60-degree days, its spring cleaning, and its freak thunderstorms. ****** I leave you with one of my most favorite thrifting finds. Actually, I think I found them at a yard sale a couple of months ago: I think it’s time to get out of my jammies.

Here’s a sampling of the music I accomplished my workaday tasks to, courtesy Miz Party Shuffle: Rhythm of Love - Yes Going, Going, Gone - Posies Underground Song - Eric Mathews Iron Clad Lou - Hum Hope You’re Satisfied - Etta James There Was a Time - James Brown Had a Dad - Jane’s Addiction Under Pressure - Bowie/Queen I Know There’s An Answer - Beach Boys D-7 - Wipers Leaning Against a Parked Car - Bear Quartet No Seas Antipatica - Juana Molina Workaday tasks included multiple trips to a big office supply store to get stuff for a volunteer project I had to set up; supervising said volunteer project; meeting with someone about her special needs kids, who want to set up a recurring volunteer commitment; setting up a speaking engagement for next week; odds & bobs of paperwork; email; giving a tour of our facility. All this talk about work reminds me that I need to post about this - Barilla and America’s Second Harvest cooked up a little project: It’s free to download the cookbook (fave Italian recipes of celebrities adapted by Mario Batali and Giada de Laurentiis), and when you do, Barilla will donate $1 to either America’s Second Harvest OR your regional food bank (they’ll provide a locator so you can see who yours is). They’re donating up to $100,000, and the promotion will run through the month of February. Get over there! [Miz Party Shuffle served up the following while I created this snack-break entry: the Verve, Aztec Camera, Mark Hollis, Elope, and Tim Hardin.]

I adore our house. We closed on it two years ago this past Sunday - homeownership! Oh! Em! Gee! - and moved in on the 12th of February in 2005. We’re its third owners; we bought it from Jay (poultry scientist) and Hazel (homemaker extraordinaire), who had lived here for over 60 years (maybe even closer to 70, now that I think on it) and were in their 90s at the time of sale. They were dealing with some elder issues (I believe she had Alzheimers) when they moved to Texas to be with their daughter and left the house up for sale behind them. We never met them, which makes me not a little sad. They did, however, leave some interesting stuff behind, like an ancient pair of overalls, an old mixed nuts can filled with Depression-era, um, “adults only” comics and advertisements, and this thing: It’s a vintage egg incubator, exact year unknown. I’ve googled the ever-lovin’ crap out of Jamesway (its manufacturer) trying to figure it out. The second I saw this thing in the basement bathroom closet, though, I knew I had to live in the house. Though I was put off by the carpet (there was carpet everywhere in this house and there remains carpet in the kitchen. The kitchen, people!), I was chuffed to discover lovely wood underneath. The backyard was immense (well, relative to where we’d come from) and barren of any shrubs, trees, perennials, and annuals - perfect for my scheme to put my tiny farmlet plans into action. But the Jamesway? It was clearly a sign from On High that we were supposed to live here, and that I was to get my chickens posthaste (which I did, thanks to Ed and Janna). I keep my weekend clothes - my rock tee shirts, my ratty old sweaters, and my Levi’s 501 collection - in there now. It is small. We’ve had to be really discriminating about what we collect and display and generally bring into the house, because space is limited. But - oh. I love it. ****** There is so much I haven’t done. There is so much I want to do. There are so many things I haven’t learned about yet. There are so many people I miss. There are so many memories to get down, stories to tell, laughs to have; there are so many views to take in, tastes to develop. Do, or do not.

Occasionally, I get glimpses into the possible future, little flashes of what I think things will be like years from now based on current events. I’m almost always wrong, which is a relief. Raising a 14 year-old boy and an 8 year-old girl, neither of whom fit very well into the roles their school culture expects of them, is a confounding experience. My daughter just wants to be seen as a regular kid, not the go-to gal when an answer or fact is needed. My son wants to encourage his fellow students into more activism (particularly anti-war activism), something his school frowns upon. We have both their backs, obviously, but it is damned difficult to see them so disappointed in this “real world” everyone keeps telling them they’re going to have to learn to live in. We put them back in school, so there’s some guilt there, but the disappointment was going to happen eventually. I also feel their pain in another way - I was a hybrid of the two of them when I was a kid. I was there, yes, but I was there in the 70s and 80s, before technological distractions outnumbered analog things to do, back when people looked forward to the Super Bowl, not its commercials, and when we had to walk to school uphill both ways in five feet of snow [shakes fist at sky]. I wouldn’t want to be a kid today, no way, but I’m kinda there anyway; we have to help the kids navigate this “real world” and walk that tightrope - we, as parents, want to remain relevant and interesting and friendly, but we need to be adults, authority figures worthy of respect, role models. Role models! Man. Wow. Damn. ****** The internet helped me find an old friend a couple of days ago. I met Steve when I was working at Blackout!Records in Chicago (on Southport next to the Music Box Theatre) back in, oh, 1992 (?) or so. [It might have been 1993. I need to unearth the journals.] He was living and working in CHGO, having moved out from the West Coast; he and his girlfriend were often in the record store, and we got to be friends. He knew everyone in the Seattle scene, so when the bands came through he was always there - watchful, quiet, obviously having history with these people. [I have one v memorable anecdote stemming from this period of time, and Steve figures in it, but my timeline’s off, and as soon as I have that figured out, I’ll write about it.] Anyway. Steve’s an artist and back out West, married and, as far as I can tell, a success. The internet can be a wonderful thing, especially when the people you find are happy to hear from you. Have a look at his blog here. ****** Lilly was reading in bed. She had these guys set up just so.

Photo is of Lilly, taken and edited by Cody. Datestamp: 2006. The kids were down with versions of the flu last week. O, Influenza, with your days-long fevers and horrible-sounding coughs! I despise you and what you do to my children! They missed five days of school between them, which just made me glad that Jim and I have enough flexibility at our jobs to be able to manage such things without worrying about getting in trouble or not getting paid or whatever. Longtime readers know that this has not always been the case with us (hell, school hasn’t always been the case with us, either, but when I was working part-time and they were homeschooled, it was not good at all if I missed even an hour of scheduled work. I hated when my little precarious work/money/kids balance got all upset, which it occasionally did, but we seemed to manage our way through). At any rate, they’re fine now, more or less. If I could find the cord that attaches my camera to my computer, I’d post a few photos from the antiwar protest Cody organized with a friend of his last weekend. He was all over the teevee, granting interviews and sounding coherent and not in the least ruffled. I am occasionally interviewed in my line of work, and it flummoxes me (sometimes to the point of near-incoherence -you should have seen me trying to shoot a 30-second spot last November. It wasn’t even live. I think we got what we needed after I kept the bumbling to a minimum on the 9th or 10th take), so I was especially psyched to see him carry himself so well. Of course, after all that protestin’ in the 15 degree windchill, he had to take to his chambers for the rest of the weekend. At least he wore a hat while he was outside. Apparently there is some sort of Blogosphere Hubub over someone on the teevee’s disapproval of Mothers Who Ingest Alcohol While Socializing In View Of Their Kids. It appears the situation involves playdates involving kids, right, and while the kids play under the watchful eyes of all the assembled mothers, the mothers hang out, dish the dish, and have a drink or two if they’re so inclined. I can’t find a link, but I think it was on NBC this past week and it involved someone named Meredith Viera and someone named Melissa from a blog called Suburban Bliss and, oh, a psychologist. I won’t bore you with how silly I think Ms. Viera is (I don’t even know who she is); I’ll spare you stories about my own alcohol consumption while hanging out with other adults and various, assorted children. I’ll even forgo lengthy statements about fathers who drink in full view of their children and seem to escape criticism (like my own dad and his few beers while watching Twins games on Sundays, my mother nowhere in evidence to SAVE US FROM HIM!!!!). I guess I’m just perplexed about why this is a big deal all of a sudden. This is new, this Mommies Drinking thing? Uh - raise your hands if you were raised in the 70s! Right! OK! I suppose that, back in The Day, I was probably being judged behind my back for my HARD-ROCKIN’ LIFESTYLE*, but no one ever gave me shit for having a beer at a picnic when Cody was a little kid. And if they had? I would have drawn myself up to my (considerable) full height, platinum blonde hair and red lipstick (it was 1994!) in full effect, and told the offender to EFF RIGHT THE EFF OFF. Other parents have happily accepted the glasses of wine I offer when we have them and their kids over for dinner, and when I have a party? We invite everyone, their kids, and tell ‘em to BYOB. Seriously - I’ve never felt judged for this! Am I running around in the wrong circles? See, this is why I just don’t bother with the teevee, and especially the mainstream networks. They’re always on the lookout for scapegoats, and the mass media loves to pick on women, particularly mothers. FUCK THE HATERS, man… and bottoms up! So, I’m not really writing much. I’m taking photos, but can’t really, you know, do anything with them. I’m knitting this… thing. I think it’ll be cool - I’m hoping to have it done for Meghan the Glassblower’s wedding in May. [I knit in the evenings, kids stowed away in their rooms for the night, with a few dark chocolate almonds and a HUGE-ASS GLASS OF WINE at the ready. Jim’s next to me on the couch; we watch LOTS OF VIOLENCE (24) on DVD. I’m looking for a new series; violence is optional.] I need to get some seeds for starting at the end of the month, but I am oddly uninspired right now. I’ll place a small order in a week or so, and then do a larger one in March or April. Johnossi is playing at SXSW next month. Supposedly they just slay live. I’m trying to figure out how Jim and I can sneak down to Austin for a couple of days. I doubt it’ll happen. This momentous event is taking place at the same time as a conference in Baltimore that, while work wouldn’t pay for the conference or travel, work would not dock me for time off were I to attend. It is very likely that I’ll just stay right here, because sometimes inertia just takes over (hahaha), but one never knows. I really want to see Johnossi. I really want to do Farm Bill 2007 work. And a large part of me would really like to do nothing, because I could really use the sleep. But… yes. I’m still here. It’s still, here. I feel like I’m hibernating. *When Cody was very small, I was living in Chicago and working in the music business. His father lived there too, so we split the week in half in terms of taking care of the little guy. My nights without Cody were mostly spent going to rock shows because, you know, it was part of my job AND my kid was with his father. WITHOUT FAIL, EVERY SINGLE TIME, someone would ask me where Cody was. It could be 3 AM at the Blue Note on Armitage after the Stereolab show and I’d be hanging out with so-and-so, and invariably, someone would stop by the table and say, “Where’s Cody?” I finally would just feign horror and gasp, “Omigod! I left him in the cab!”