Three beautiful things from my past week:

1. A resolution to the conflict between the Parks department and the local Friends group of my local park that my volleyball league found itself in the middle of has been reached, at least as it affects our games. We’re moving to another nearby park, which means I’ll be able to continue going to mine without fear of angry looks from all my neighbors. Now, if we could just find a solution to game-time thunderstorms…

2. I took my laptop to a local coffeehouse for a sunny afternoon sitting at their picnic tables bookmarking job openings, including one I’d particularly like to fill.

3. When I stopped by the garden yesterday to drop off some seedlings (dusk was approaching too rapidly to plant them), I noticed the Parks department was doing their first test-fill of the pool. The cover had come off in April, so I knew we had to be reaching this point, but it was nice to have confirmation. They’ll use this fill to make sure there are no problems with the pipes or cracks that need fixing and then will drain the pool completely to do whatever maintenance they deem necessary and clean it one final time before doing a last fill before the Memorial Day opening weekend.

How about you? What’s been beautiful in your world lately?

I’ve returned to my Lightning Shawl for a final strip, although probably not soon enough to finish and block it in time to wear it to Sheep & Wool on Sunday. But either way, it should be done soon and that will be good enough.

On the reading front, on Sunday, I picked up Jeff Zentner’s latest, Rayne and Delilah’s Midnite Matinee, about two high school senior friends from Tennessee who host a public access program where they show old monster movies and do campy interstitials, à la Elvira or Svengoolie. It is good so far, but I can see where trouble lies ahead for the characters, which stresses me out. On a less stressful note, I’m listening to Jenny Han’s P.S., I Still Love You, the second in her romantic trilogy about the fallout a girl experiences after letters she wrote, but never intended to send, to her previous crushes get mailed. The first book was made into a Netflix movie, which I thought stayed true enough to the book (although with way fewer baking sessions than I thought should have been included) and the second one has been greenlit, so this seemed like a good time to listen to it.

Check out what others are reading and crafting at As Kat Knits.

Saturday was Independent Bookstore Day, the annual biblio-holiday celebrating the small, community-based bookstores around the country. D.C. booksellers put together a crawl that included discounts, and if you visited 10 of them, you’d get a tote bag commemorating the event.

I did not make it to all ten, having not finished my job application early enough to leave me time to accomplish the task before our movie showtime. Getting around town by bikeshare just takes the amount of time it takes — you cannot make bikes magically appear at deserted docks and I am a slow cyclist — and I would have needed another hour to check off the two other neighborhoods I didn’t make it to.

However, I made it to five shops and came home with a modest, budget-friendly haul — three books, a magnet, a sticker, and some birthday cards (not shown).

First the books:

• The Girl Who Drank the Moon is a special signed copy available for Independent Bookstore Day. I read it a couple years ago and loved it, and owning a copy seemed like a nice idea so that I could reread it periodically at my pleasure.
• archy and mehitabel is a 1927 collection of poems from a column at The Evening Sun purportedly written by a cockroach (archy) about his early 20th-century adventures with a his alley-cat pal, mehitabel. I mean, of course that had to come home with me!
• And, finally, Paroles is a collection of poems that came out just after the end of World War II about the French youth experience of growing up under German occupation. Because I’ve been working on my French comprehension, it seemed like a good fit for me. It was translated by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and the French and English poems sit opposite each other on the page, so I can make sure my understanding is accurate.

And, finally, the ephemera. The magnet reads, “Tea fixes everything,” which if not true, is at least the closest to true as one can get around here. And the sticker is a Langston Hughes quote: “Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink and be in love. I like to work, read, learn and understand life.” Seems about right.

I stopped by the garden yesterday to do some work. My pea plants are thigh-high now, so I’ve run the trellis up another couple feet.

My violets have all gone past, so I pulled out a bunch of the leaves (but not their roots) in an effort not to let their greens take over all my available space. I have to do this every April when they are way taller than the strawberry plants they share their bed with.

I planted both seeds and seedlings earlier this month and both are doing well. I should start harvesting some of the lettuce leaves next week, I think.

I weeded the back section of my plot, which is the worst spot, since it abuts the forest. I cut back the dead wood of the rosemary plant and pulled out a ton of the creeping groundcover vines that had infiltrated my space. I should be able to plant some additional herbs this coming week. (In addition to the rosemary, I have oregano, fennel, and mint growing back there. In with the strawberries and violets, I have a lavender plant I should move next fall…).

My sorrel has already grown so much it’s started to bolt. I picked a helmet’s worth (I forgot a bag and had to make do) of the biggest leaves and will do something with them this week. Maybe soup, maybe something else.

I also harvested one of the oniony things I planted last fall in my potato patch. I don’t know if it made its way into last night’s or tonight’s dinner or if Rudi is waiting to use

While strolling from Georgetown to the garden this afternoon, I came across this planter outside someone’s home. It contained possibly the largest clematis I’ve ever seen. Each flower was easily the size of a saucer!

My grandmother had clematis growing up the lamppost in her front yard and seeing them always reminds me of her. I didn’t realize there were so many varieties, but Wikipedia shows me they can vary from tiny fuzzy flowers to gigantic, leather-like ones. I knew there was a hairy variety, but never guessed that was just the start of the ways clematis could vary one from another. Nature really is cool, isn’t it?

I wish you all three.