It's two weeks later and my garden is looking good. I had a small battle with aphids this past week and ended up burning my plants with a little too much oil and the help from the sun. But the plant will be fine, and I've since diluted my oil mixture. The pepper plants I used the mixture on (after dilution) are fine.


The peppers have been potted. At the ends of each planter are peppers. In the middle, Thai basil. The peppers are starting to get tiny little buds at the top. I expect flowers, soon.
I potted the peppers deeper than they were in the Jiffy pots to help stabilize the peppers. Still, we had a thunderstorm Thursday night and yesterday a few of the plants were really leaning over. I'll stake them this weekend.

I don't know if these poppies are doing well or not, but the seeds were a gift, and they don't make fruit, so no big loss if they fail.

The basil is finally growing! Maybe I just plopped them out in the garden too soon temperature-wise.

You can tell sesame is a mint, because this stuff grows so quickly. I had some aphids and accidentally burned the leaves, but I strongly suspect this will pop back quickly. I'll start harvesting the leaves soon.
The plant on the lower left is strange. Its leaves are all slightly off-kilter on one side, almost like a corkscrew.

The dill is kind of floppy, but I'll also start harvesting it soon.

And the mint. Can you kill mint? I'm doubtful. Again, I've given the mint a haircut since the photos two weeks ago, but you can't tell.
"Amanda!" Whenever Mother says my name, she yells it. A-man-daaaaah! "[Good Man] needs new pants."
"I know, but he doesn't like shopping."
"Neither does his father. I buy him pants and say, 'Wear these!'"
I started laughing. "Ajumma, ajumma... [Good Man] how do you say 'trick?'"
"비법." Bibeop. The dictionary says it's "a secret process, a mystique, a mystery."
Mother nodded, "Yes, ajumma trick. You go buy him pants, OK?"
"I promise," I laughed.
At the outlet mall, Mother managed to find the sole Korean-speaking employee in the store. At Bath and Body Works, Mother managed to find the sole Korean customer in the store. She looked at the woman and just started speaking Korean.
"Mother," I said, "you have an ajumma trick! You have Korean radar. Beep beep beep! Korean person!"
Mother laughed and the woman she was talking to gasped, "She knows Korean! She knows the word 비법!"
"엄마, 쇼핑 올림픽 운동하면, 김연아예요."
Mother laughed and said other Korean women were much better than she was.
I made hash of the phrasing, but she understood what I meant.
Mother, if shopping were an Olympic Sport, you'd be Kim Yuna.
(Just for the record, Good Man says 쇼핑 올림픽에 참가했다면, 김연아였을 거예요 is a better way to phrase it.)

I finished the non-cartoon (manwha) version of 빨간 머리 앤 tonight, bringing me past the 40% mark for my goal.
Now...what to read next?
Last night I made chicken salad. I decided I wanted to eat it in a different way today, so I decided to make pita bread with a recipe I found at The Fresh Loaf.

They didn't puff perfectly, but next time I'm going to try baking them at 500 F instead of 400 F.
They were amazing. I haven't bought tortillas since finding my own recipe, and now I won't be buying pitas, either.
Mother arrived last Wednesday. She left yesterday. During that time, I didn't have to cook a single thing. Even when Mother and Good Man went to Philadelphia for three days, Mother left enough food in the fridge to cover me. "Amanda, you work so hard. I made you food."
맛 means "flavor" or "taste." 맛있다 means "to be delicious." 단맛 and 쓴맛 mean "sweet" and "bitter" respectively. 밥맛 is "rice" and "flavor," which becomes "appetite."
손맛 is "hand" and "taste." And as I've seen it used, I've always thought of it as meaning "home cooking."
Watching Mother cook for more than a week made me realize that it really does mean "hand taste."
When Mother cooks, she rarely uses mixing spoons or spatulas. She dons thin plastic gloves and uses her hands (or chopsticks in the case of hot foods) to cook.
She chops everything by hand.
She mixes food with her hands.
She serves with her hands.
손맛.