by Julie Carpenter
To all the messy gardens I pass, the ones where the forsythia and quince have twisted around each other like jealous lovers who can’t let go, where the grass and daffodils have tangled themselves into a standoff, barely domesticated versus natural, at the base of dogwoods and fruit trees. To the little white farm house where the Carolina Jessamine is trying to pull off the garage door and crawl inside. To the one where the wheelbarrow is melting into rust at the back of the vegetable garden, abandoned in front of the blackberries, the old shovel swallowed by fugitive dill and basil. To the garden where the sweetheart rose has covered the privet and together they form a warren of caves, a fortress for a city of rabbits. To all these gardens, you have my love.
I was supposed to post something this morning, but I’ve been a little lost in unpacking. We are in the middle of a cross town move. This means, of course, that instead of sensibly packing all our things at once, we are moving in fits and starts, filling up plastic totes, odd boxes, and pillowcases with whatever we think we might need in the moment. This morning, for instance, I finally found the coffee pot in a laundry basket of socks. Don’t judge me, the socks were clean. The frying pan is still AWOL. Maybe I should check the box of cat toys or in my basket of garden tools that's sitting by the garage door.
Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Author, Roberto- Aguirre Sacasa
by Jarad Johnson
Readers, I need help. I’ll get to that in the end. But I’ll start with my last reading experience. I’m not someone who reads comics. Actually, I don’t remember ever reading all the way through any before, although I’ve glanced through some at some point. However, my addiction to the Netflix show Chilling Adventures of Sabrina led me to this one. This comic is actually the basis for the show, so when I found it, I had to pick it up.