J U N E
Northern California is aglow with vibrant green vines and there are epic flowers sprouting in every nook and cranny. I went jogging (really!) last weekend for the first time in ages (spoiler alert: I totally have not gone jogging since) and not only did I not puke, but I spied a wealth of pea flowers growing along the main street into our little town. My resolve to push it kept me from scooping up a mini bouquet, but that discovery was certainly the second best thing to come of that run. The first was finding my favorite sports bra, which had been missing for months. Considering I only own one other, this was pretty major.
I like working out. I like it a lot. I do loads of yoga, I own 3 lb weights (and use them kinda sometimes) and if I had a lake nearby I would swim every day forever and ever. Company is an excuse for a dance party, so lots of cardio there, right? Running and I have had our moments, but currently we're not really on the same page. However, I do dream of being one of those people that can just pop out for a jog, you know, whenever. The kind of people that bring running shoes on vacation. It's summertime so I'm going work a bit harder on getting back into a cardio groove and will keep up with the not puking thing. More importantly, the flowers I found are all mine and I have a beautiful salad in the works for them. If jogging is an opportunity for foraging, sign me up.
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Fast forward to me doing some research on pea flower recipes and can you imagine my utter disappointment upon learning that ornamental pea blossoms are poisonous? The what? Not only am I peeved that I won't be able to make the fetching June salad I had been picturing all week, but I'm also completely embarrassed that I was totally unaware and could have accidentally killed us. Dear lord, Glenny, get it together. Shit.
After that near miss, I decided to take a bit of a breather in the form of a cold mug of Pilsner. Although we can't eat those splendid little blossoms, they still look damn lovely and really spruced up the outdoor patio at Inverness' historic Czech bar. The pints of Pilsner were slightly bitter, slightly hoppy, and totally refreshing. They paired perfectly with a sunny Sunday afternoon spent picking flowers and finishing the crossword puzzle. No jogging needed. I've nearly redeemed myself.
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