Category: small things

These are the days of seedlings (poem & motion).

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We’re planting our seeds. We’re

sowing them in. We’ve made

our selections, we’ve sawed

the boards & nailed them,

we’ve scarified the seeds

who need a little scaring.

Some seeds are smaller

than any item I’ve ever

collected. Some seeds

are blocky, brown & sharp.

We’ve showed them where

they can live in light

on the the dining room table

where the bulbs are big

and the view is right.

No one’s perfect, as

they say–I disagree. I say

a seed is perfect, through

and through. It’s got all it needs

to do inside of it, it knows

and does it in a mere

two days. The seeds

are growing on the table.

The seeds are chatting

with the moon, rising greenly

with their necks to greet her.

 

 

Small-Block-Planting

 

 

(gif by misha m johnson, the most talented photographer in the upper valley)

Things that are small & purple in Vermont (photos).

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photo-1

 
Can you tell what that is? It’s a teensy tiny PURPLE cauliflower! Leaves and all! Like, OHMYGOSH!

 

photo

 

 

This tiny cauliflower (the variety is called “purple graffiti”) is currently on display with some other small things, in front of the microwave, which we do not use. Oh, and Heather made me that oven mitt! Don’t you want to buy one for your best friend for Hannukah?!?

 

 

Things that are small in Vermont (piglets! piglets are small!).

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We arrived in Vermont on Friday evening. Yesterday, Saturday, we visited the farmers’ market, unpacked our trusty truck, Egret the Egret, visited piglets down the road, sampled raspberries and blackberries, went for a dip in the pond and ate delicous foods we did not cook ourselves, amen. Here’s Misha, in the sun. Here are the piglets.

A baby’s shoe! A baby bunny! A tiny artichoke!

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Not last Sunday but the Sunday before, this tiny Converse sneaker appeared on the ground just outside our market stall. Look at this! A tiny shoe! I yelled. Don’t you think it’s a hint from the universe that you should have a baby? someone asked. No! I said. It’s a hint from the universe that the more I love small, the more small that arrives! 

 

 

My really cool crew wears Converse (Owen in grey, Sara in purple) and I wear Blundstone boots with my pants cuffed because I’m short.

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The only thing better than a tiny sneaker is a tiny creature, and here below is Little Debbie, or Little Deborah (or Debra, if you like Beck [I like Beck]). She was found at the farm on a Thursday, looking terrified and alone. She’s currently being cared for and will be let back into the wild when she’s a little bigger. But for now she’s so small she looks like a squirrel.

 

 

Here she is in her little box:

 

 

And here’s a small artichoke going bad, plus my feet and Misha’s.

 

 

 

The End.

 

So many wonderful smalls (photographs)!

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Well, first this tiny pitcher was found at the yard sale that happens outside of Ellie’s house every Thursday. It’s ceramic and according to the guy who gave to to me (for free! thank you!), “very old.” After bringing it home I filled it with one sip of lemonade, made from 1/16 of a lemon plus some sugar. I’m kidding!

 

 

Ellie made me the ultimate tiny thing: she filled a tiny gold book box she found with the tiniest ojo de dios (god’s eye) known to man or god, and affixed a hummingbird feather on the other side. Are you dying right now? SHE MADE IT WITH HER HANDS! I open it to look at it at least twice a day. It is the best thing.

 

 

On Saturday I received a package from my dad, also known as Jonathan F. Katz, aka Poppa Dids, aka P.Diddy Poppa. In it were three small things: a tiny mug with my name on it that I bought during one summer at camp, a small silver spoon from my great grandmother’s collection of silver spoons (COOL), and a photo of me, aged three, with a big belly. Here’s me:

 

 

And here’s the spoon and the mug. Tiny mug! With a font that I associate with 90s computers.

 

 

My thumb is so stubby.

 

 

And here you can see the mug in the Cuteness Lineup I set up on Saturday morning:

 

 

I present to you the full lineup:

 

 

The Hershey’s kiss is from Marilyn’s birthday party on Friday night, where she slaughtered a pinata! And I found the little terra cotta pot at the thrift store. And inside that little bowl are seed packets the size of my pinky finger. They’re so small my human eyes can barely see them! They’re from a vintage dollhouse set! Maybe you can kind of see the tiny seed packets in the bowl in this photo below?

 

 

Let me tell you, ever since I’ve started blogging my small things, I’ve been receiving them left and right. It’s been a most thrilling time of life! Stay tuned for one tiny living creature and a present that was dropped from the sky for me at the farmers’ market on Sunday.

 

 

Treasure chest Friday (small treasures, small containers).

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Brown bottles found at an antique shop in OB: blue  bottle found by my treasured man at our local thrift shop. In the future, I imagine the brown bottles holding small amounts of homemade absinthe. Slurp slurp.

 

 

Tiny jam jar of wildflower seeds; small clamp jar of rose petals purchased at GALA FOODS; jar of Tiger Eye beans salvaged from Ellie’s car; tall skinny vial of stone beads from broken bracelets plus one marble.

 

 

Found bottles & bottles given to me as presents. Most exciting is the smallest one, which I found in the field at Suzie’s while planting on a Thursday. I had to nurse the dirt out of it.

 

Oatmeal & soda (small house things).

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Growing up I ate instant oatmeal, the Apples and Cinnamon flavor. Growing upper, I learned about stirring the oatmeal on the stove, and adding milk, and adding raisins, and cinnamon, and bananas, and coconut, and walnuts, then a dash of maple syrup. My dad eats oatmeal now, but he doesn’t like his sweet, and when I made my fancified oatmeal at home in New York, he was appalled at how many ingredients I added.

 

I believe the soda above is orange-flavored, and I do like that flavor, though I don’t usually want a soda.

 

I acquired these two items at a yard sale in my own sideyard; they were donated by my younger cousin, Jonah. She doesn’t play with them any more, but I do. I also wear her hand-me-ups. She’s fourteen. I’m twenty-six.

 

Would you care for a cookie (a very small cookie)?

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I’m not a baker. How I wish I were a baker! But baking is science and all-white ingredients, and I get so bored! And I don’t have cake pans! Or an electric mixer! Or patience.

 

And now it will come as no surprise to you when I say that Misha made the above cookies. Misha’s the baker of the house.