He is such a good man.
I am such a lucky woman.
When he left the house, Maurice came and got in the bed with me. She hardly ever does that, Jack being the one who claims that privilege most nights. I was so surprised that I rubbed my hand down her back and tail to make sure it was truly her. She is a much smaller cat than Jack and she likes to curl up on my hip unlike Jack who either lays himself right beside me or down at my feet where he pins me to the bed with his big chunky body. It was indeed Maurice and I fell back asleep, glad for her company.
Yesterday when we were riding to town, Maggie told me that she would buy one of my cats from me.
"Oh really?" I said. "Do you have any money?"
"No," she said cheerfully.
"Do you want to buy Scratch?" I asked her. Scratch is what she calls Maurice for obvious reasons.
"Oh, no!" she said. "I want the black cat."
Jack is actually gray and white but I knew what she meant. Lily and I giggled at the way she'd said, "Oh, no!" like a full grown lady who'd been asked if she ever went to strip clubs.
I didn't get up until after eight-thirty and drifted about for hours, doing almost nothing besides chopping up grapes for the baby chickens and making and eating a rather huge and delicious breakfast. It was, in fact, so huge that I haven't eaten anything since then except for a few crackers with hummus but the omelet I ate for breakfast had spinach and peppers and onions in it so at least I have eaten some vegetables.
In the early afternoon I tried for about forty-five minutes to accomplish something online that I simply could not do. Every time I got to the "Go to check-out" message and clicked on it, it would return me to the screen which I'd already filled out. Finally I gave up and tried calling the business. I am being vague here because this may involve Hank's birthday present. Every fucking phone number that was listed for contact gave me the message that my call could not be completed as dialed or else that this number is not in service, followed by a most inappropriately cheerful "Good-bye!"
I finally emailed someone there and got a fast return which said their internet and phones were down along with an apology.
Ah, no big deal. I'll try again tomorrow.
And then, because I am constitutionally unable to lie about and binge watch anything or even read, and because cleaning out closets sounded dreadful, I decided to go work outside in the 97 degree weather but it wasn't so bad, really. I planted some zinnia seeds and then I started pulling some of the Gee Dee crocosmia and trimming sago palms.
This is a terrible picture but what you see there in front is a full Rubber Maid garden cart filled with the little fuckers. You can see that there's still a lot of them I didn't get pulled and that's only a few of the millions I didn't get pulled but I've made a start.
So my hands ache and I have little itchy sore places where the sago needles pierced my gloves and thus, my skin but I'm still alive and the heat didn't kill me and I got started on a much-needed project. Not that pulling those plants will have anything to do with them not coming back again next year. They will.
And that is not the only place in the yard that they've taken over.
Gosh. This has been a pretty bitchy post, hasn't it? And weirdly, I'm in a fairly fine mood. I've had my shower and am going to make my supper and finish watching the Wanda Sykes stand-up special on Netflix.
Can I tell you that Wanda Sykes is a gift on this earth? I purely love her.
I do believe I may have discussed this before.
Oh well. It's true love.
And Mr. Moon made it to Las Vegas and last I heard, he and his sister were driving through the desert on the way to St. George, Utah where they'll be staying for two days before they go back to Las Vegas. Last night I told him not to do anything in Vegas that needed to stay in Vegas. I meant it too. I wonder why I didn't tell him not to do anything in St. George, Utah that needs to stay in St. George, Utah. I suppose it just seems obvious that it's harder to sin in Mormon country than it is in Sin City. Still, perhaps I should have added that admonition, just for safety's sake.
Oh! I picked my first tomato today!
Here it is!
I hope it's not my last.
Talk to you tomorrow.
I think it was a fine day. And so, I'll go to bed.ReplyDelete
Bed- always the best part of the day. For me, at least.Delete
I watched Wanda Sykes' special . . . twice. I've never laughed so hard in my life. I had to put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't wake anybody up. I also love your blog. Keep writing!ReplyDelete
The last fifteen minutes had me laughing out loud too. The part about how after women are done with the life-making and then just set on fire?Delete
Oh god. How many times have I had that same thought?
"Wanda, would it kill you to be a little more lady-like?"
"Yes. Yes it would."
I love how you describe the way Maggie talks and what she says. Hell, I love that she's described as a woman baby. I wish I could meet her before she's all grown up!ReplyDelete
She was sort of born all grown up, honestly. I told her the other day that she was prettier than Elsa on "Frozen" and she said so matter-of-factly, "I guess."Delete
Yeah, I wouldn't think you'd have much to fear from Mr. Moon's behavior in St. George! (Well, anywhere, but especially St. George.)ReplyDelete
We've planted several types of crocosmia and Dave saw on a gardening web site some advice saying that it CAN take over. Ours hasn't -- at least, not yet -- but apparently many other people have had the problem you're having.
That Maggie cracks me up!
NO! NO! DO NOT GO FORWARD WITH THE CROCOSMIA! Seriously, Steve. If there's one chance in a thousand that it does what mine has done you do not want it.Delete
I hate crocosmia and pull it up and toss it on the burn pile. it just takes over, lays on the ground, and never blooms. you might get one bulb out of a hundred to bloom. I finally got my zinnia seedlings in the ground yesterday but first I had to dig up all the nut grass that took over since the poppies were done. no ripe tomatoes here yet but they are putting on.ReplyDelete
Exactly! And if you don't burn it, it'll take root wherever you dump it and just add to your problem. What a mess.Delete
At least you had zinnia seedlings. I just had seeds. I'm behind this year.
I hate nut grass. I get it too.
Jesus, girl! A tomato already! If I hadn't brought in my husband's six as-yet-not-transplanted tomatoes last night, they would have been frozen this morning. As it is, my (not lonely little) petunias still look okay but the next few hours will tell whether they made it through the frost. Your photos of greenery do make me envious, though up here we don't have poisonous snakes (or those yellow flies -- I don't think -- but we've been plagued by woodticks) or alligators so I guess I wouldn't switch places with you. I like to visit though. -KateReplyDelete
Well, we have ticks too. In fact, I think we have just about all of the worst critters. Some of the best as well but that's not much comfort when you're being eaten alive by one thing or another.ReplyDelete
And guess what? There are plenty of critters that eat the garden, too.
Florida is not all palm trees and beautiful ocean views.
I thought that "Rubber Maid" was the name of a sex doll and not a garden wheelbarrow. Apparently, "Rubber Maids" are for sale everywhere in Las Vegas but you can't find one for love nor money in St George, Utah.ReplyDelete
Oh, Mr. P! You do amuse me so much. I bet you anything though, that there are plenty of rubber maids for offer in St. George, Utah. Where there are the uber-religious there is always money to be made with sin. And, gardens.Delete
Mr Moon will not do anything in either Vegas or St. George that he wont tell you about happily on his return. Enjoy your solitary time. Solo time is lovely when you know your love is returning soon.ReplyDelete