My onions have sprouted.
I don’t know whether to be horrified or excited. It seemed to happen overnight. I bought a bag of onions, left them on the counter for a couple of days, and then, this morning, there were these green things shooting out the top. That’s what I get for keeping them out in the fertile ground my kitchen seems to have become.
Can I still use them? Or should I just plant them?
So all kinds of invites have arrived from people to hang out with in Seattle, assuming I can get off my butt and plan a trip there soon. Maybe around the 4th of July would be good: I’ve been informed that it ALWAYS rains then.
About this rain thing: long-timers know that I’m not really happy unless I get a couple of rainy (or at least overcast) days a week. The problem with San Francisco (and most of California) is that it just doesn’t rain AT ALL between roughly April and October. So by mid-May, I already miss it.
Soaking up sunshine is not among my favorite pastimes. Getting a tan? You gotta be kidding. Strangely enough, though, I have always fantasized about owning a convertible. Not just any convertible, but a 1966 Corvair convertible.
Completely unrelated: number one on the pop charts this week in 1966 was “Monday, Monday” by the Mamas and the Papas…
