Seeds, this Sunday

Today, I'll be planting my fall crops. I unpacked them from their pretty Botanical Interests box on Friday night, on the roof, and gloated.

I don't know whether any of them will work, but I am quite excited. The marginal choices will be the broccoli raab, the parsnips and the peas. Not sure how good they are in containers, but I aim to find out. But I have hopes for the mustards, the kales, the fancy spinach and the easy mescluns.

Last night we visited my friend Mimi for her 40th birthday. We took her a bottle of pink Champagne, a coil of frozen boerewors in brown paper with string, and a jar of dried summer savory.

We ate Chinatown pork buns, dipped summer rolls, and caught up with news from all the people whom we generally only see at Eric and Mimi's - a sort for reunion, as someone said. We always leave feeling as though we've had a spectacular and not unpleasant kick in the career pants. For instance, the unassuming Craig's firm Snøhetta designed the Memorial Museum Pavilion at the World Trade Center site, where they would be this morning for the opening, and are about to launch into the revamping of Times Square, from 40th to 50th streets. That sounds like a joke, I said to Craig. I know, he said. Then he explained that they want to make Times Square a place that New Yorkers would like, because no New Yorker ever goes to Times Square. This is true. And, he said, We have been studying the movement patterns of cattle. Basically, humans en masse move a lot like cattle. To that end, sidewalk curbs, steps up and down, will be removed. To see other projects by Snøhetta, visit that link to their website.

A distressing email this morning from my friend Lisa. Her husband, Jose Gaytan, is critically ill again after a promising six weeks of chemotherapy. She is by his bedside, holding his hand. Amongst your prayers and good wishes today, please remember them.

Not all beginnings are good. Seeds come in all forms. The best we can do is water, and wait.