... This past weekend, I finished grafting my fruit trees. If my goal was to make the garden look like it belonged to Crazy People, I succeeded admirably. Something about hanging labels made of cut-up soda cans, and sticking cling-wrap flags on all my trees' branches makes me wonder if it won't be long before I'm building God's throne-room out of tin foil and light bulbs . The weather was particularly mild this weekend, and so Robb and I tackled our much-neglected garden. Once again, I have utterly failed to grow broccoli. I don't know what it is about my garden and cruciferous vegetables. With the exception of kale, every vegetable I plant that's in the cole/brassica family dies a miserable death. Without fail, they refuse to grow at all, and eventually bolt. Sad. Really sad. I tore out my pathetic broccoli, and spent several hours digging up the never-ending crop of Italian lords-and-ladies . It's a shame we can't eat those, beca