Yesterday’s storm left everything muddy but bounding with life. I have pea pods–I snacked on one while surveying the garden, and it was delicious–and more tomatoes and marigold flowers. I don’t know whether the rain washed away the Round-Up or not, but it certainly matted down the newspapers I had put under my Asian pear tree to try to smother the weeds there.

I picked some green onions and some lettuce for my dinner. This was to be no ordinary dinner, either. Mom is Korean, and when we were growing up, every once in a while we would eat sticky rice with black onion and bean paste and lettuce. (Or cabbage, but I like lettuce better–it’s more pliable.) The way you do it is put a leaf of lettuce on your palm, then place rice in the center, then add black onion (bulb onions marinated in soy sauce and vinegar for a month and then chopped and mixed with sesame oil, green onions, garlic, and sesame seeds–trust me, it’s good) and bean paste or occasionally stirfried vegetables. Then you fold it up, like a little potsticker or wrap, and put it in your mouth.

Mom had brought me a jar of black onions when she came in for my wedding. I had verdant lettuce in my garden, and tonight, this was how I was going to use it.

All was well when I was mixing the black onion and then sitting down to eat. But here is where you learn what a fat sense of entitlement I have, because I discovered that eating my own homegrown, pesticide-free lettuce isn’t good enough. This lettuce I planted is a salad mix, and while some of the leaves were wide and flat, most of them were deeply serrated, and to make my rice wraps I had to put a tiny amount of rice in the middle and then fold the points of the leaves in on it, like a spider wrapping its legs around a fly.

(I don’t think they actually do that, but you get the idea.)

It was still a delicious meal, but I had rice dripping down my fingers and black onion falling out of my wraps. Next year I’ll plant a different variety, one that will suit my favorite meal as well as the (quite good) salads we’ve been having. Then maybe I’ll be satisfied.

(But not unless I can also grow my own sponges. Look, luffa seeds! Why did I think they were sea creatures? Because they were called sponges, I guess. I totally want to grow my own sponges!)