Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Tears in the Pesto

I know it's been a while since I've posted the hilarious and intriguing police calls from our local paper, but today I have my own crime to report. My potted basil plant was stolen from our front walk Saturday night. I went out Sunday afternoon to gather the basil I'd need for two of my dinner dishes, and there was a gap in my row of potted herbs. I didn't jump to conclusions. I scouted the perimeter of the house and questioned its inhabitants before arriving at the sad and shocking truth: somebody ripped off my basil. And then I began swearing, which I believe is the step after denial in the grieving process.

It's Tuesday now, and I don't think my basil will be returned. I've left its spot open, just in case the hooligans might regret their actions, but only the chalky orange circle on the pavement stares up at me each day. Since I can't figure out why anyone would steal another person's 20-inch pot, AND SAUCER, three feet from the front door, I can't help but wonder what has become of my plant. I mean, the thieves took the saucer. Doesn't that mean they care? Maybe they've always wanted a basil plant of their own but, for whatever reason, just weren't able to have one. Or have they completely stripped it and created some culinary nightmare with all of its beautiful leaves? By now the dirt-filled pot must be lying cracked and abandoned in a ditch somewhere.

As some insensitive clod said to me, at least I still have my other herbs. That is cold comfort, Sam, I mean, anonymous insensitive clod! What the hell do you think Angelina would say if someone made off with Pax? Oh, it's okay, I still have Shiloh and Maddox and Zahara...dear Lord, and I get flak for "Paolo"? Yes, Sage and Rosemary are present and hearty, but Basil is gone! Basil was my favorite, my high-needs herb, the one that mattered the most in our summer cuisine. Too much sun, it burns; too little sun; it won't mature; too much pruning, it can't recover; too little pruning, it goes to seed. I have spent years perfecting the right location, pot size, maintenance regimen, and this year I nailed it. It wasn't a basil plant, it was a basil epiphany. Oh, you should have seen it. Have you seen it? Or who took it? There may be a reward.

I have imposed upon you long enough, kind reader, with my tale of woe. I could have written something funny, like how Paolo wants to change his name to Chief Bruno, but instead I've bored you with botanical theft: a senseless-but not victimless-crime. The writing has been therapeutic for me. Maybe now the healing can begin.


Nic said...

My condolences for your loss. If it helps, the other day my co-worker opined that "basil is over-rated" AND "a punk ass herb." Go figure.

Quattro Stelle said...

So it could have been a hate crime! I hadn't even considered that.

Nic said...

I concur. It is totally hateful.