The news from When Pigs Fly Farm 4.0

Yes. The Farm lives on to fight another season of recalcitrant bamboo teepees.

(Shush, sporter. I can hear you groaning all the way through cyberspace. Go back to working on the sequel to your book and you won't notice a thing.)

This weekend, we cleared the beds, spread new dirt, plotted out the garden, attempted to roto-till (that part of the equation still pending) and discovered several new species of plant that look suspiciously like weeds.

But they're pretty. So we'll leave them in peace until they do something heinous.

And in reward for our labor, we get this:

Welcome to the world of When Pigs Fly Farm.

But on a brighter note: Seeds, seeds and SEEDS.

I did my seed shopping last week. I love seed shopping. . . lingering over the descriptions especially, anticipating the delights of cultivating them in my little corner of WPFF:

Pencil Pod bush beans -- "Fresh wax beans steamed with a touch of butter -- so delicious! Great for small areas in the garden or growing in patio containers." (Translation: "Small areas" = 10 acres per plant.)

Chioggia beet -- "An Italian heirloom variety, its roots are very sweet. . . Approximately 60 days to maturity." (Translation: Good luck seeing an edible beet until mid-September.)

Parisian Market carrot -- "They grow well in soil too shallow or heavy for longer rooted carrots and are ideal for container planting. . . . 50 to 60 days to maturity." (Translation: Nope. No carrots again this year. Not gonna happen.)

And who doesn't love being mooned by a lemon cucumber? On. the. rack? 

OF COURSE I bought the seed packet.

Finally, Mr. Pugly. Maybe the best pumpkin. EVER.

So stay tuned -- more news to come. It's kinda spring at When Pigs Fly Farm!

Acknowledgment

It’s in print! My Slow Read to a Sunburn friends, sporter and Judy’s, first novel “Hot Cross Buns,” is in print, and available on Kindle – and I am in the Acknowledgments!

I bought the book -- the first purchaser! -- on Amazon last week and my copy arrived Thursday, Yep, there I am right there in the Acknowledgments. It’s the first – and probably last – occasion I will be mentioned on such an august page.

I always read the Acknowledgments in books, don’t you? I love to imagine all the behind-the-scenes people who help bring a book to life. The agents and editors obviously, but also the friends and families – heck, even the family dog – who no doubt endured, cajoled and consoled their writer as he or she slogged through The Masterpiece. The folks who hid the wine bottles, changed the typewriter ribbon (hah! remember the good old days) and slide plates of food into the aspiring author's nook, unable or unwilling to bear the wrath of writer's block.

It has taken sporter and Judy six years to write this sucker. Countless weekends spent together hunched over laptops, writing, re-writing, rejecting and starting all over again. It's been a labor, and not always of love. Trust me, I know. My work cube is next door to sporter's. And my friend, as even she readily admits, "has no filters."

Honestly, my contribution to “Hot Cross Buns” was minimal. I did a first read-through for them, doing a proofing, copy editing and critiquing along the way. It took three months, as I painstakingly sifted back and forth through the pages stored tidily in a blue three-ring binder, asking incredibly incisive questions like "Why does everyone in this book own a goddamn German shorthair dog?"  By the time I was finished, the binder was porcupined with yellow stickies. And sporter and Judy returned to their lap tops, writing, re-writing and rejecting all over again.

I read "Hot Cross Buns" a second time when the book group sporter, Judy and I belong to picked it as a monthly selection. Although still in a three-ring binder, the manuscript had found itself, thanks to the authors' relentless edits and re-writes. Between wine and cheese and crackers, we laughed with sporter and Judy as they shared the many funny stories of co-authorship -- and celebrated because our friends had, in fact, written a book.

And now, after another half dozen edits, it is published. I'm reading "Hot Cross Buns" for a third time. And loving it. Its light, irreverent themes and tone are perfect for the impending doldrums of winter. Plus there is something magical about holding a published book in hand, knowing only too well and intimately about it's humble, and sometimes raucous (thanks to sporter), origins.

But, even more so, it's understanding -- and sharing in just a small way -- the hope, love and madness that two friends have invested in this book. That's what makes it special. And, in a small way, makes it partly my book as well.

That's the real acknowledgment.