When you’re living in the Dark Ages, you don’t really know it. Remember rotary phones? No one thought, “Gosh, I wish I could just push the numbers instead of taking all the time to dial.” And remember walking to the television to turn a knob to switch between your whopping THREE channels? (Okay, you have to be over the age of, say, 40 to remember that.)
Well, same goes with computers. After all my fretting and after TWO DAYS of hideous angst while I tried to get all my files back and my programs operational, I feel like I have entered the Age of Enlightenment. Do you know that they have computers with little tiny slots on the front where you can just load your little camera memory cards so you don’t have to deal with spaghetti wires and cables? Who knew?
And now that I have this fast-o dual core processor computer with a 22″ flat screen monitor, things seem so much more beautiful. The virtual world is so colorful!
But alas, the delay meant that I missed Bloom Day on Friday, June 15. That’s when garden bloggers post photos and information about what’s blooming in their gardens. (I don’t believe that this Bloom Day has any relation to the Blooms Day, June 16, that is celebrated by James Joyce fans by reenacting Leopold Bloom’s day-long trek through Dublin and told in the incredibly painful read Ulysses.)
I will celebrate with my own personal little Bloom Day +6 with a show-and-tell of the many photos I took yesterday when I walked away from the madness of the computer switch.
This is the bee balm that I have been worrying was going to take over the garden. Our friend Lucia gave me a couple of little clippings from her garden last year. Lucia never seems to know the names of things and always gives me these little gifts with the explanation that “It’s beeeyoootiful.” Often she also gives some little explanation of other virtues. In this case. “It keeps away mosquitoes!”
Well, as you might guess, it is also invasive. I have let it go this year. I even let a garden club lady take a bunch. But next year, I will SHOW NO MERCY. Oh, it’s beautiful alright. But I would like something besides bee balm in the garden!
Also blooming here is ice plant and little miniature petunias. That’s a peony next to the bee balm and obedient plants in the background.
Then we have the cucumbers. Every year I think, “Fewer vegetables, more flowers.” Ever year, no matter how much I try to restrain myself, we ALWAYS have too many cucumbers. AND WE LOVE CUCUMBERS!
These plants have hardly made it up the bamboo supports and already I have a stack of cucumbers in the kitchen. I will likely be carting them around to the wine shop guy, mail store lady and other people I see on my daily errands. I am my own version of “Meals on Wheels.”
A proper Colonial garden always mixed herbs, vegetables and flowers. The type of garden I’ve been more or less modeling mine after is the type you might see on the edge of town, perhaps owned by a moderately successful merchant.
I have also been experimenting with intensive planting–squishing more plants into an area than the seed package calls for. Sometimes it works well. Sometimes it doesn’t.
My bush beans and swiss chard don’t seem to mind the crowding. Tomatoes, on the other hand, insist on having LOTS of room or they get sick.
This is the herb and lettuce patch. The black seeded simpson is starting to bolt, but the red sails lettuce is so far still hanging in there. In the middle are hollyhocks. The purple cone flower is also blooming. Also there is basil, dill, oregano, parsley, tarragon, lavender, chives (just past blooming) and garlic chives. It’s a regular salad bowl!
Then, here’s an overview of the garden from the ground.
Those are day lilies in the foreground. On the trellis over the gate are wisteria and clematis. Yes, one on one side and one on the other. I can only explain that I didn’t expect the wisteria to grow. My mom warned me that I should tear it out before it got out of control. But like in most things, I don’t listen to my mom and will probably live to regret letting it go so long. For now, I still think it’s beautiful. It just stopped blooming a couple of weeks ago.
Then we have a few mixed flowers. This is pretty much the area where I stick all the plants that I don’t have another place for or that people give to me. I found this lovely bird bath online at Smith & Hawkin.
The tomatoes are still just babies. They will grow to nearly 8′ high. I have brandywine, but also planted some hybrids, just to see how they compare in growth and hardiness and also to prove that I’m not a snob.
You may be able to see the marigolds planted between. I stared those in my super-duper indoor light garden this year. I also planted lots of other flowers, such as bachelor’s buttons, cock’s comb, moon flowers, black eyed susan vines, pink spiked cleosa, coleus, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Then there’s the squash. Actually zucchini and musk melons too. That’s my henryi clematis (yes, I spelled it correctly) to the left. It has already grown too large for the tuteur, so I need to figure out how to propagate and grow more little Henryis.
Well, enough for today. I need to go check on the mourning dove that flew into our back window. Ben pulled him from Miss P’s (cat) cluthes and we have him in a bucket out back. We’re hoping he’s just in shock.
Ciao!
Robin
As I settled down for my coffee this morning I was reading the latest Plant Delights Nursery catalog, Gardening Jihad.
I was doing this instead of watching the birds, as is my regular habit, because I couldn’t bear to look at the sight of the ravaged bird feeding station.
Those wicked, wicked raccoons have nearly broken a branch off my zelkova to reach the bird feeders, which they smashed on the ground. I thought, perhaps, when I installed the new feeding station, with raccoon baffle, that I should move it a bit further from the tree. But I DO seem to learn things the hard way and this is yet another example.
So rather than reminding myself so early in the morning of how very stupid I can sometimes be, I was thumbing through the pages of this clever catalog. I enjoy it when I stumble across humor in unlikely places. I mean, who thinks to read a nursery catalog for chuckles, right?
But Plant Delights offers a few good ones.
In their ordering information section there is a subsection on “How To Be a Good Customer.” It says:
We realize that most folks have never been trained to be good customers, so we decided to offer a few pointers…Our nursery uses a thought process called logic. Logic dictates that if you order plants and forget to open them for a couple of months, don’t ask us to send free replacements. If your plants are fine when they arrive, and are later eaten by a vole, die from drought, or look like a fire hydrant to your dog…don’t ask for more…to quote Trek’s Spock, “It is illogical.”
I also enjoyed their short treatise on invasive plants:
…While the invasive plant issue is a great area of concern to us, a proposed nationwide ban of plants that are only invasive and hardy in Hawaii or South Florida is absurdly extreme. We are very aware of a small but vocal group of plant bigots who advocate a horticultural ethnic cleansing as a means of satisfying their myopic view of nature. As with all vices, moderation and responsibility are the answer.
And at the back of the catalog I stumbled across a “Special Paid Ad” from Shady Deals Nursery, Emu Ranch, Nail Salon, Video Poker and Auto Body Repair. Their new releases for the season included some good ones:
Eucalyptus gunnii ‘Dick’s Adventure’ (Hunting Gum) $129.95 Very closely related to robust E. ‘Haliburton’, this selection can be a bit more brittle, so we recommend the use of a stint to support weak arterial branches. If you hear something pop, don’t worry, it’s probably just a limb heading your way.
Juglans koreana ‘Kim Jong Il’ (Nuclear Nut) $79.95 This is one of the strangest nuts that we have ever seen. The olive-green nuts hit the ground with explosive force and afterwards have a strong allelopathic effect starving anything nearby.
And given my current computer issues, I particularly liked this one:
- Tricyrtis formosana ‘Gates of Bill’ (Extrasoft Toad Lily) $44.95 This is the 20th new version of this popular perennial. The last one we sold would grow well, then stop growing, then start over again. We’ve been promised this is an improvement.
If you’re not generally given to reading nursery catalogs, perhaps you should reconsider and start with this one.
I’m so pleased with the morning chuckle that I’m ordering a grunch load of calix from this now.
Robin
Yesterday was so busy with work, helping Ben organize his room and preparations for a dinner guest, I completely missed Bloom Day. That’s when the garden bloggers all post photos and lists of what’s blooming in their garden.
But so I won’t miss the party altogether, I figure I’ll post a Day After the Day After Bloom Day report tomorrow!
In the meantime, I took some photos while I was out walking the other day and thought I would share just a few of the things I stumbled across.
Every morning I do a walk up and down the Eli Lilly Memorial Driveway (so named for the client whose writing project paid for it) for exercise. In the spring, we always begin to see a multitude a baby brown bunnies up at Bunnyville, the weed palace at the top of our driveway near the road. When the bunnies are quite small, they freeze at the edge of the road when they see us walking or running up. I can do 10 or 12 laps up and back and the bunny watches me every single time.
As they get older, they become more wary and dart for cover. I suppose it’s because they develop some common sense about what might be interested in rabbit for dinner.
So it’s not as frequent that I see an adult AND a baby at the same time.
So far–at least for now–the rabbits remain out of my garden. It’s probably because there is so much other fine food to eat they don’t need to wander down here for mine.
Also on the driveway, Harry, Ben and I have been watching this river of ants for the past week or so. There are so many ants that you can see them as a brown stripe across the driveway, even from a distance. There must be MILLIONS of them. They happen to be crossing where a drainage ditch is located under the driveway. But we have no real clue as to why they’re crossing here or what they’re doing.
If you have any ideas, will you please leave a comment?
And on to the bird news…
I’ve been checking the bluebird houses more frequently–nearly every couple of days–to ensure that house sparrows don’t try to set up housekeeping in one of the houses again. I just happened across this snake skin in the field on my way to House #6.
We don’t see a LOT of snakes, but we do see our fair share, which I define as >0. For the most part we see black snakes and king snakes. Although I don’t have warm and fuzzy feelings about snakes, I do leave these alone, since they help to control the mouse population–a BIG issue here in the country. I mean, the cat can only eat so much.
Finally, there’s the bird report.
When I moved the bird feeders onto a proper pole with a raccoon baffle, we seem to have gotten the attention of numerous new birds. I only moved the feeders about 4′ east, but the feeders are more in the open, which is what I suppose has attracted them.
If you’re battling squirrels and raccoons to keep them out of your bird feeders, run, don’t walk, to your nearest Wild Bird Center and buy a raccoon baffle. It works like a charm.
I may still need to move the whole contraption a couple more feet away from the tree so that the squirrels don’t decide to JUMP onto the feeders. But we’ll see. I like this location because I can sit on the couch with my coffee in the morning and watch the feeding frenzy. It’s a nice, cozy way to start the day.
Okay, so much for today’s nature walk. Back to work…
Robin
The whole day started off alright. The sun was shining. The hunting was good. The little dogs were the usual annoyance, but under control nevertheless.
Miss P had just come in to cleanse her palate with a little bit of Deli Cat and was headed back outside for a sun bath.
But then…
Suddenly she realized that she wasn’t being allowed to go back outside. She sat by the door waiting for me to read her mind. Then she stepped up the campaign with some meowing. She knew something was wrong. Miss P is used to having a voice-actuated human and suddenly I was not responding to commands.
It was starting to look bad. She decided it was best to head to the basement for little siesta until things blew over.
That’s when the trouble really started–when she saw me heading for the cat carrier.
“Oh, crap,” I could see her thinking.
Only…the door kept falling off when I picked it up.
Okay, that’s bad. I didn’t want to carry a crazed cat in the car for 30 minutes to the vet. I could just see her bouncing around from side to side trying to escape. Neither of us would arrive alive. So I had to resort to the prissy dog carrier with the Velcro closure. Oh, that was a good idea. Did you know that cats can easily escape from carriers with Velcro closures?
At least I had Ben to drive for me. So he drove while I rode shotgun and kept poking Miss P’s paws back into the carrier whenever they would snake out from the little cracks around the warped Velcro closure. It took constant vigilance to make sure she didn’t make a break for it and cause an accident.
And I never really thought much before about the full range of meows in her repertoire. There’s the standard “meow.” Then there’s the more emphatic “MEOW.” There’s the very sad and somewhat desperate “Whooooeow.” Then there’s the angry “EEEOOOOWWW!” We had the full concert.
As much as she did not want to go into the carrier, when we got to the vet she didn’t want to come OUT of the carrier. Suddenly that carrier looked like a pretty fine place to be.
We pried her out and the veterinarian did a nice, thorough annual wellness exam. Happily, Miss P didn’t seem to mind much the three shots.
Then Evil Bumblebee showed up and asked the doc if he could knock Miss P out, give her a bath and brush her hair.
See, Miss P has lived with us for 8 years. She is not at all prissy and I rarely see her grooming. She is a VERY DIRTY cat. We call her the Pigpen of the cat world.
During those 8 years I have given her ONE bath. You would have thought I was killing her–and she was NOT going down without a fight. Given her extreme and aggressive response I guess we were both lucky to come out of it alive. But I learned one important lesson: Don’t give the cat a bath. She doesn’t even want to be brushed.
Eight years is a long time to wander through the woods, kill things, take dirt baths and NEVER bother to attend to your own personal hygiene. Oh, she may take the occasional token swipe at her chops, but that’s the extent of this cat’s grooming. As a result, things were looking a bit grungy wherever she decided to take a rest. Her white pillow in the basement has a black spot in the middle. The guest room bed has a dirty grey spot where she camps out. I can even tell where she’s been hanging out on the outdoor furniture cushions. She leave trails of ick wherever she goes.
We’ve been pretty tolerant of her general untidiness, but it had gone too far. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
So, I hired the paid mercenary vet to do the dirty work and Miss P got her bath. At least he could knock her out, where I had to do battle without the benefit of drugs (for either of us). She had to spend the whole day at the vet hospital during which time they did bloodwork, knocked her out and then bathed her, brushed her and cleaned her ears all while she was asleep.
When she got home, she was still woozy and staggering around a bit. But today, she’s like a new kitty. She looks about three pounds lighter. She wants me to hold her all the time, which I no longer mind doing because she’s not disgusting anymore. She actually seems quite happy with herself.
But perhaps that’s just my projecting my pleasure at her finally being clean onto her. Or maybe it’s because she’s just pleased that she gets to start fresh at getting dirty all over again by wandering through the woods, killing things and taking dirt baths.
P.S.
Yes, I know Deli Cat is feline junk food. It is all that Miss P will eat. On the occasions when I have tried to give her a better, more nutritious food she spends DAYS standing at the food bowl yelling at me and generally making life miserable for everyone. I have given up since the Deli Cat is just a small part of her overall diet, which consists mostly of critters. (Eeeww.)
Robin
I truly hate weeds. I don’t mean that I just dislike the sight of them. I mean, I think I’m starting to take it personally that they spring up to spoil my hard work. I’m not sure, but I think my blood pressure goes up when I see new weeds.
Now, that’s not to be interpreted as meaning that I don’t HAVE weeds because I am rabidly ferreting through my flower beds to pluck them out. It just means that I get a little steamed (okay, a lot steamed) when I see them.
I’m trying to be better about the “pick a few whenever you go out” approach. I mean, I go out a LOT since I have two little dogs with bladders the size of golf balls. So while I’m waiting for Sarah to get inspiration for her “business,” I’m stretching my hamstrings in a deep forward bend, breathing deeply and scratching through the dirt with my fingernails to get at the weed roots.
My manicure looks like crap.
I also have a new, slightly evil way of dealing with weeds, inspired by the whole over-the-top weed flamethrower contraption you can buy. I kid you not. You can buy a weeding tool that is attached to a propane tank that allows you to torch errant weeds with the push of a button. As you might imagine, my 16-year-old son thinks this is a grand idea and has volunteered to do weeding duty if I buy him one.
Hah. Not a chance.
I am taking a more medieval approach. I boil water while I’m working in the kitchen and then scamper outside with the teapot and POUR BOILING WATER ON THE WEEDS! It’s very satisfying, really, in an evil kind of way. It also ensures that you kill the roots so they won’t spring back up to annoy you again another day.
This works particularly well for cracks between pavers and for areas with those itty bitty tiny weeds that you can’t seem to scratch up, even if you throw caution about your manicure to the wind. Of course, I recommend that you are careful around the delicate roots of surrounding plants. But there are LOTS of places where this works just fine.
As proof, I offer some photographic examples of what happens with the boiling cauldron approach.
Another helpful, if evil, tip from the Bumblebee Blog. Now go have some mean fun.
Robin
My mom wrote recently to tell me that she and her two sisters were getting together and would be spending the day painting on the back porch. No, they weren’t painting the back porch, they were painting ON the back porch.
All three are pretty clever and handy with a paintbrush. Sadly, I am missing the clever-artist gene as well as my dad’s handy-fix-and-build-things gene. My brother, Dale, got both. My brother, Chris, got the handy-fix-and-build-things gene. I’m not sure what I was left with, aside from my grandfather’s garden gene. I hope not the cancer and heart problems genes.
She sent photos, which I thought I would share.
Some of her paintings are naturalistic landscapes. Some are just fun, like kissing fishes and such.
I remember when I was growing up that my mom could draw ANYTHING. It seemed to me an amazing talent that someone could actually draw a picture of a person and it would look like…well…a person!
To this day, my drawings are more stick figure than realistic. Sad, really.
Good day today. Harry, Ben and I met my new friend, Vennie, who is from Seattle, for lunch in Annapolis. It was nice to be out and about with three handsome and intelligent men.
–Bumblebee (Robin)
Robin
The birds in Calvert County are going to be happy with me! Benjamin and I raided the Wild Bird Store in Waldorf today.
We bought:
- A proper pole with raccoon/squirrel baffle (That THAT, you beasties!)
- Four arms for hanging birdfeeders
- A new nyger seed feeder (because we got 15% off on everything when we did)
- Nyger seed (Duh)
- A bluebird feeder, with little acrylic walls and holes just for the bluebirds. It also has a little tiny bowl inside for the mealworms they like.
- Mealworms
- Books on bluebirds and purple martins (Yes, next summer we’ll probably add a purple martin house. I tell you, this bird feeding thing is addictive!)
As soon as the guys get back from the dump, I’m putting them to work setting everything up.
Benjamin and I also bought a juicer so that we can use up some more of the vegetables that we grow–and that our friend Lucia brings in HUMONGO quantities from the farmer’s market in Hughesville.
In other bird news, there are now TWO eggs in the nest. Bluebirds lay about one egg a day until they have a full clutch of four to six.
You’ll also be THRILLED to learn that I started my first batch of cheese today (if you don’t count the yogurt cheese I make all the time). You’ll probably be all atwitter to know that I took PHOTOS. Whoohoo! Do I know how to have a good time or WHAT?
–Bumblebee (Robin)
Robin
Have you seen the Forever & Ever hydrangeas? They come in a variety of colors—even red! I know, I know. After I was all prissy a few days ago talking about the antique roses in my garden, I’m all aflutter now about a hybrid now. I don’t think this means I’m fickle so much as flexible.
Harry felt sorry for me one Sunday when I was despairing over all the planting I had to do and installed these for me next to the woods. We’re trying to tame the edges into something a bit more civilized and less toxic (poison ivy!)
These hydrangeas are supposed to be repeat bloomers. Just deadhead the spent blooms and new ones shoot right up to take their place. What a lovely idea for the garden and yard. I’ll let you know if it works as advertised.
In the meantime, I thought you might be interested in some other useful sources about hydrangeas:
Changing the Color of Your Hydrangeas – This website gives very specific directions about how to turn your hydrangeas from pink to blue or from blue to pink.
All About Hydrangeas – A very useful site that includes information about propagating, planting and fertilizing, pruning and a very good description of the needs of different types of hydrangeas.
I wish I had read these sites before I let a well-intentioned helper prune my hydrangeas in the fall. We had NO flowers the following year. She also “evened out” some hollies in front of the house, meaning that two that are supposed to be tall on the ends are now stubby and short. And my spiral topiaries are a disaster.
IMPORTANT LESSON FOR TODAY: Read up about pruning and institute a NO PRUNING OR TRIMMING policy with any yard and garden helpers. This year things have gone much more smoothly.
That’s it for now. It’s been a long week and I have much work to do this weekend.
Ciao!
–Bumblebee (Robin)
Robin
If you happen to look at my posts regularly, you know that I was in crisis mode this week. Too much to do, blah, blah, blah.
I am sorry to complain, but that really wasn’t the point of the post. Most of you seem to have adequately captured the point, which I won’t dissect here.
Sadly, my brother-in-law, Todd, did not. He wrote to tell me to stop "whinnying." (I think he meant whining). He emailed me instead of posting a comment because I think he has figured out that I now have a policy of deleting all his RUDE or MEAN comments so that he doesn’t give other people ideas about being mean on this very polite forum. Of course, I will allow any clever, insightful and, especially, complimentary comments to remain. Post one today!
Anyway, the crisis has passed, at least for now. After delivering the fourth report in two weeks and completing a questionnaire draft at 10 p.m. last night, I earned a stretch of free time this afternoon to do really important things like getting the oil changed in my car and letting the lady at Nordstrom convince me to buy an OBSCENE amount of makeup.
I have every good intention to pull those weeds in the vegetable beds and mow the newly rain-soaked lawn tomorrow. I also have some interesting plant news and some cool miracle fertilizer challenge photos to share.
In the meantime, here are some other quick updates:
- Sarah, our youngest Papillon at 1.5 years, goes through the occasional bad patch with steps. I’m not sure why, but she usually can go up to the second floor in a flash without a second though and run in and out of the house using the couple of stairs at each doorway. But sometimes she has a little bit of a mental block. Example: She will climb all 14 stairs to the second floor but stop…at…the…very…last…step and cry. She can’t bring herself to go up the last step. She will go all the way back down and cry at the bottom of the stairs. Another example: She currently has a fear of going up the TWO STEPS from the garage into the house. Sophie (the other, older and wiser Papillon) clearly makes the effort to encourage her by standing at the top and barking and even demonstrating the up and down stairs movement. No go. Sarah high-tails it to the back door to get into the house instead. If you have a clue as to the reasons for this addle-brained behavior, please email me.
- While I was in Annapolis, nearly an hour from here where I have to go to get the oil changed in my fancy-schmancy SUV, Verizon decided to no longer recognize the $400 Treo phone I purchased from them. While I was on a pay phone at the Barnes & Noble typing in a 26-digit security code and going through other STUPID security procedures, my 16-year-old son was in a panic because I wasn’t here when he got home from school. Was he worried about the safety of his dear mother? No. He actually CALLED HIS DAD at the office all worried because he wanted to know WHAT I WAS COOKING FOR DINNER! I won’t tell you what I’m thinking about this.
- The squirrels have discovered my birdfeeders. They went through a $10 bag of premium nut mix meant for the birds in about the four hours I was getting slathered with makeup by the impossibly pretty woman at Nordstrom. Two lessons for me: Don’t buy $10 bags of bird seed and 2) Get a proper pole with hooks and a baffle to keep out the squirrels and raccoons.
- Todd, the aforementioned brother-in-law, writes to me that he is gleeful at the prospect of going to Las Vegas next week. It’s not because he’s going to lots of great shows and will be bellying up at the buffet at the Parisian (although I bet he will). It’s because he THINKS that on the trip he will find me a clever present to top the taxidermy frogs, toy Papillon (he and his wife are having the should-we-or-shouldn’t-we debate) and Elvis snowdome that I have already sent to him. (I am a very considerate gift-giver.)
Okay, that’s it. My plants are squeaking for some water and I have a zucchini pie to make for the ravenous teenager.
Ciao,
–Bumblebee (Robin)
Robin
If you happen to look at my posts regularly, you know that I was in crisis mode this week. Too much to do, blah, blah, blah.
I am sorry to complain, but that really wasn’t the point of the post. Most of you seem to have adequately captured the point, which I won’t dissect here.
Sadly, my brother-in-law, Todd, did not. He wrote to tell me to stop "whinnying." (I think he meant whining). He emailed me instead of posting a comment because I think he has figured out that I now have a policy of deleting all his RUDE or MEAN comments so that he doesn’t give other people ideas about being mean on this very polite forum. Of course, I will allow any clever, insightful and, especially, complimentary comments to remain. Post one today!
Anyway, the crisis has passed, at least for now. After delivering the fourth report in two weeks and completing a questionnaire draft at 10 p.m. last night, I earned a stretch of free time this afternoon to do really important things like getting the oil changed in my car and letting the lady at Nordstrom convince me to buy an OBSCENE amount of makeup.
I have every good intention to pull those weeds in the vegetable beds and mow the newly rain-soaked lawn tomorrow. I also have some interesting plant news and some cool miracle fertilizer challenge photos to share.
In the meantime, here are some other quick updates:
- Sarah, our youngest Papillon at 1.5 years, goes through the occasional bad patch with steps. I’m not sure why, but she usually can go up to the second floor in a flash without a second though and run in and out of the house using the couple of stairs at each doorway. But sometimes she has a little bit of a mental block. Example: She will climb all 14 stairs to the second floor but stop…at…the…very…last…step and cry. She can’t bring herself to go up the last step. She will go all the way back down and cry at the bottom of the stairs. Another example: She currently has a fear of going up the TWO STEPS from the garage into the house. Sophie (the other, older and wiser Papillon) clearly makes the effort to encourage her by standing at the top and barking and even demonstrating the up and down stairs movement. No go. Sarah high-tails it to the back door to get into the house instead. If you have a clue as to the reasons for this addle-brained behavior, please email me.
- While I was in Annapolis, nearly an hour from here where I have to go to get the oil changed in my fancy-schmancy SUV, Verizon decided to no longer recognize the $400 Treo phone I purchased from them. While I was on a pay phone at the Barnes & Noble typing in a 26-digit security code and going through other STUPID security procedures, my 16-year-old son was in a panic because I wasn’t here when he got home from school. Was he worried about the safety of his dear mother? No. He actually CALLED HIS DAD at the office all worried because he wanted to know WHAT I WAS COOKING FOR DINNER! I won’t tell you what I’m thinking about this.
- The squirrels have discovered my birdfeeders. They went through a $10 bag of premium nut mix meant for the birds in about the four hours I was getting slathered with makeup by the impossibly pretty woman at Nordstrom. Two lessons for me: Don’t buy $10 bags of bird seed and 2) Get a proper pole with hooks and a baffle to keep out the squirrels and raccoons.
- Todd, the aforementioned brother-in-law, writes to me that he is gleeful at the prospect of going to Las Vegas next week. It’s not because he’s going to lots of great shows and will be bellying up at the buffet at the Parisian (although I bet he will). It’s because he THINKS that on the trip he will find me a clever present to top the taxidermy frogs, toy Papillon (he and his wife are having the should-we-or-shouldn’t-we debate) and Elvis snowdome that I have already sent to him. (I am a very considerate gift-giver.)
Okay, that’s it. My plants are squeaking for some water and I have a zucchini pie to make for the ravenous teenager.
Ciao,
–Bumblebee (Robin)
Robin
