there's not a lot to say about radiation, but the rest, yes. In a bit of time between doctor's appointments today, Nina and I went to the farm-store, which is a wonderful nursery-food market-farm that is perfect destination for a parent with a toddler on a weekday morning, with the place basically to ourselves: time to watch the garlic man trim and sort the garlic into boxes; to watch the gourd woman take each one out of the huge tub of water and scrub off the soil; to walk over to the chicken coop and make friends with the black bantam chicken with whom Nina wanted to become fast friends.
brief conversation we had while walking away from the chicken coop:
Nina: they eat dinner?
me: yep, they eat dinner.
me: the chickens? yes, they eat dinner.
me, realizing what she was really asking: um, no, they don't eat chicken...
It was just a sweet day, with our teensy potato crop (maybe 8 pounds? note to improve yield next year), and 6 pints of applesauce made, to go with yesterday's 6 pints of peach butter. We're not exactly urban homesteaders yet, but the jars lined up on the shelf do make my heart sing.
...and the last bit: that if we want to put up our sukkah in this not-so-new-anymore house, we need to schedule it, and it would be both helpful and soulful to ask our backyard neighbors to do it with us. They're not Jewish, but I'm sure they'd be game for it, they're great neighbors -- and they are one slice of our tribe as we make our way on the path step by step.