Sunday evening's soundtrack in Harlem: Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall (Ella Fitzgerald and The Inkspots).
It is raining, and it is wonderful.
It has been a dry month.
Water runs and splashes and cleans and is used and lost.
In the wooden boxes that line the terrace's edge the herbs are growing fatter.
Tonight we eat the cilantro (about to bloom) with spicy leafwraps.
Above: last week my rash purchase arrived. Five Nicotiana mutabilis plants from Annie's Annuals (California - eek), packed incredibly well. I can find no good seed for it online, and I want the height, tiny flowers and changing pinks on this year's summer terrace.
Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) - growing statuesque (which is good). The three seedlings from last year have produced dozens of offspring.
Indoors, in the 127th Street window. FDNY action outside.
And later, paging through Kobus van der Merwe's Strandveldfood cookbook, while sampling the quails eggs I did not have time to peel last night (for a foragers' drinks party) dipped in mugwort salt - somehow I had missed this lovely double page picture of Kobus and Rupert Koopman; like having them in the house, suddenly.
And now it's to those leaf wraps. Time to pick the cilantro (I don't have basil, yet) and quick-pickle some carrot-slivers. The meaty filling (beef, lemon grass, ginger, lime juice, tamarind, fish sauce) has been bubbling since 5pm.
Good luck with Monday. It's going to be a doozy.