Using a book broth base, adding the savory of whimsical observation, and stirring well.
Monday, July 4, 2011
This morning, at home, a strawberry. My first. I wrapped it in an old teabag so the birds wouldn't get it. This afternoon in the crabapple grove I saw a cavorting gopher, more mosquitoes than I care for, a jogger who seemed to feel his role in life was to hold up a pine tree, and a small horde of art students lolling amid the grass blades drawing their little hearts out.