"Why do you say that," I asked.
"Your car is covered in bird poop."
Well, when I awoke to a beautiful Saturday morning, I had to prance to the bathroom because of all the little presents left on the floor by the two cats. THEN, I cleaned up the mess on the floor which is one of the many joys of cat ownership (she types with sarcasm).
Which is not funny, at all. What is funny is my brother.
Bro: What's up with the cats?
Me: I don't know. Maybe it's something they ate.
B: I think they had a party and got commode-hugging drunk... only without the commode.
Later that same day, after, I complained about my tummy aching, likely because of the medication I am taking:
Bro: It is probably from second-hand hairballs.
The flowers I planted were a quantifiable disaster because apparently I have a cat that loves to dine on "Salad." So, she would munch on my poseys before they actually bloomed and the plant would subsequently die. The only thing she left alone was the petunias. OK. Maybe my salad-eating cat has a discriminating palate.
For round two of gardening, I planted (if it can be called planting when one is growing flowers and veggies hydroponically) a tomato and a trio of bean plants. First, just getting the beans to germinate was a Herculean task, but they did decide to grow. And, you guessed it, my salad-eating cat loves beans.
So, to keep the cat away from the single remaining bean plant that was only half-eaten by my furry health-food nut, my brother rigged a Rube Goldberg contraption designed to keep the cat way from the Aerogardens. It consists of a fruit bowl (sans fruit) and several pieces of driftwood gathered from the shores of Chesapeake Bay. I guess a guy's gotta have a hobby.
Despite the dodgy appearance of the deterrant, it does keep the cat away from the bean plant. Now for the farm report:
Brother: So, how does your garden grow?
Me: You mean like Mary, Mary, quite contrary?
B: Actually, I was wondering if we are seeing any results?
Me: Actually, yes. We have ten tiny tomatoes and one bean.
B: One bean?
Me: That's what I said. One bean. It is about 2 inches long.
B: So, when the tomatoes ripen, we will need to break out the china dishes and the good silver.
B: We will put a tomato on the plate and carefully cut it with a knife and fork. Eat it slowly, to savor every moment.
Me: That's a bit sentimental.
B: No, it's not sentiment. We could have made a trip to Europe on what it has cost to grow ten tiny tomatoes and one bean.
Me: That's not true. We could have probably only made it as far as Denver. Besides, it's not about the cost of growing ten tiny tomatoes and one bean. It is the experience of being a real urban farmer. I feel like I have accomplished something.
B: If we have to live on your urban farm, we are going to starve to death.
Me: Yes, I realize that, Mr. I-haven't-caught-a-fish-or-a-crab-in-a-month.
B: Oh, now that is just chilly! You got a mean-steak.
Me: I wouldn't be a bit surprised.
Got completed ticked off at my daughter who seems to feel it IS all right to yell at me on the phone because I had the audacity to ask her to call me. Of course, I haven't heasrd from her in about 2 months and I didn't know if was working or if she had a phone other than Skype, which she has to be on the computer to even answer it. Regardless, she still does NOT have permission to yell at me, EVER. And I told her this.
Very busy at work. Will I ever get caught up? I doubt it. And it is Saturday and gorgeous outside and I have to work, but I am going to visit the Divine Miss M this afternoon.
On the phone with the Divine Miss M (who is just 4)...
Me: What did you do, today?
M: I went shopping with Mommy.
Me: Where did you shop?
M: We went to two stores.
Me: Which ones?
M: We went to the clothes one and the dollar one*.
Note: Dollar General is the modern day equivalent of a Five and Dime.
Me: My eyeballs are starting to crystalize.
Me: In my purse
Brother: (looking at the three bags hanging on dinig room chairs) One of these?
Me: My purse is the blue one.
Brother: I never know. Every time you leave, you carry so many bags, you look like a high-end bag lady.
Note: My grandson's name is Corbin.
The Divine Miss M digging for dinosaurs
The Divine Miss M
My Big Brother in his natural habitat
The Divine Miss M
The Divine Miss M and her Mommy
The New Guy and his daddy, my son, The N (Only because he objected to being called #2)
The New Guy acting Super Cute
The N and Clover
The New Guy
This one is Tiki
This one is Evelyn
I have a new fascination: an AerogardenTM. Or, not to put too fine a point on it, TWO Aerogardens. Of course I chose a Pink one and a White one. I planted the flowers and they grew beautifully until my cat decided that a nice petunia salad was on the menu. Of course, the petunias didn't agree with her digestive system and she barfed plant parts for two days. Still, growing flowers was a nice, successful experiment.
Then, I ventured into the world of beans and tomatoes. The beans are dismal, at best, with only one plant having sprouted out of the several dozen beans I have attenmpted to grow. The tomato is happily chugging along, having sprouted it fourth layer of leaves. I can almost taste the tomotes, now. Does that mean I am half an Aerogardener
But, I have to tell the AerogardenTM people something. My plants NEVER look like the pictures in the ads. What's up with that? Do I have to hire a full-time professional Aerogardener to make pretty plants? Or to make any bean plant sprout? I think they use fake plants in their ads. They must. Really.
I think I am better suited to grow mold on the fogotten left-overs in the refrigerator than I am to grow beans.
I have really enjoyed going out into Opera-Land and finding old frends who are still here. Some have moved along to other things and that is all right. But, I am back and trying to post daily.
Also, the job search is on... I will keep you posted as to how that goes.
OK. Let me explain. I had a allergy attack a couple of weeks ago that turned into an infection... sinus infection, ear infection and eye infection. Well, I went to the doctor and she gave me some drops for my eyes that were very itchy and redder than they would be if I were on a two week drunk. So, the idea is to put in one drop twice daily. Sounds very simple, doesn't it? Just put in a drop twice daily.
So, I follow the instructions and lean my head back slightly, position the little bottle over my eye and squeeze gently... the bottle, that is. Not my eye. Then, DROP... right onto my cheek. Not to be dissuaded, I try again and then DROP... onto my forehead. Carefully positioning the little bottle again, I open my eyes wide and DROP... back onto my cheek. Then, my nose, my chin, my hair, my neck, my elbow, my wrist, my foot. Everywhere except my eye.
I get the feeling the doctor is laughing hysterically every time she prescribes this particular treatment. I think it is just to keep the patient occupied while the oral antibiotics work their magic.
Lists are supposed to be popular on blogs. I read somewhere that if you can't think of anything to write and nothing funny is going on in your life, to make a list and everyone on Earth and a couple of planets in a galaxy far, far away will read your stuff.
So, here is my list of stuff I know about men.
1. They are very knowledgeable about porn and sports equipment.
2. I know this because they helped me shop for some... sports equipment, that is. When I was younger and into more sporty things than I am now and was trying to get the really hot sporty jock kind of guy to notice me.
3. The jocks never talk to nerdy chicks
4. Or ask them out on dates, regardless of how much sports equipment nerdy chicks ask advice on.
5. They can't cook.
6. I know this because I did all the cooking.
7. They're very smart.
8. I know this because I did all the cooking.
9. And the cleaning.
Now that my brotter has moved in with me, it appears that my cooking days are over.
Brother: I cook better than a Top Chef or any of those guys on a TV show.
Me: I can't say for certain because I never tasted their cooking.
B: Are you saying I don't cook good?
Me: No. I am saying I haven't had their cooking. Your cooking is just fine. Your cooking is great!
B: Are you sure?
Me: What have you made that I didn't eat?
B: Was my shirmp good?
Me: Better than any fried shrimp I have ever tasted.
B: And my crab cakes?
Me: I admit, those were excellent.
B: Made from fresh crab caught right out of the Chesapeake Bay.
Me: I know. I was with you when you bought the crab pot.
B: Another haul of a dozen crabs and the trap will pay for itself. They sell for about $15 a pound.
Me: So why are you standing here talking to me when you could be out there catching more crab?
B: I have to wash the dishes.
Me: Good point. Sorry to disturb you.
B: And then mop the floor.
Me: Ok. I am leaving the kitchen.
OK. So some men do cook and clean. So my original post was partly wrong. But, on the other hand, Jocks still don't date nerdy chicks.
My hair is so weird. I look like a parakeet.
Button front with crochet insets and swiss dot details. Back elastic waist; abt. 36".
- Machine wash.
- Sizes: 12W-32W.
If Love is a Skirt, then I am Hooked
Fit: Feels true to size
Waist: Feels true to size
Length: Feels true to length
Pros: Nice Fabric, Figure Flattering, Washes Well, Nice Color
Cons: Wrinkles Easily, Wears Easily
Best Uses: Wear To Work, Casual Wear, Wear to School
Describe Yourself: Classic Dresser
Comfort vs Style: Comfort Driven
I love this skirt! I bought the orchid color first, then went back and bought the white, vanilla and latte. It is comfortable and very flattering. I wear it to work (which is a school) and it even looks cute enough to wear to church. The fabric is lightweight, comfy and cool, but if you don't like to iron, then this may not be the product for you. It looks better after a touch up with my iron. I washed it on a gentle cycle and took it out of the dryer before it was completely dry knowing that dryers beat clothes up. Treat this skirt with kindess and it will last a long time.