Capturing the Freegans

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Originally uploaded by writer_mama.

I burned my fingers pulling a pan out of the oven today, so I don't know how long I can blog here.

Maybe I should go raw. (The owner of Quintessence, a raw food restaurant in the East Village, was recently arrested for indecent exposure on the subway. Talk about raw. He plead guilty, freely admitting he has a problem.)

Or maybe I should go freegan. After our school's rocking spring fair (where Grindergirl manned the face-painting booth, and her ex swallowed swords in the school's auditiorium), we retired to our community garden which was hosting a cadre of anarchist bikers from Times Up! One of them showed up early--shown here--pedaling an ice-cream truck with an attached generator. (One of our gardeners was hoping that the ice box was all pedal powered, but no.) He gave away free ice cream to the few kiddies (including my girls) in attendance, much to everyone's delight. Why is it so breathtaking to get stuff for free?

Suddenly, at the other end of the garden a huge spread appeared on one of our rickety picnic tables: huge round loaves of peasant bread--

I'll have to finish this tomorrow. My finger throbs whenever I talk it off the bag of frozen peas in my lap.