New month, new banner!
Thank you once again to the awesome Christine!!!
Man, I don’t know about my gardening skillz. Actually, I guess it’s not my gardening skillz that are in question but WHY THE HOLY HELL is it hovering around 100 degrees at the beginning of June for the LOVE OF GOD. I ended up harvesting what was left of the romaine in my raised bed, yanked up the spinach (which was never happy to begin with), cut the purslane to the ground, and harvested a handful of radishes. I was able to get a couple of small cucumbers out of the big garden, and last night we had a baby romaine/ purslane/ radish/ cucumber salad with dinner, and a side of stir-fried purslane. It was good, but I don’t know that I’m too tempted to grow purslane again next year. We’ll see.
So now I have a raised bed of cauliflower and brussels sprouts growing (I don’t honestly expect much from them at this point), a bed of carrots (which will be harvestable in another month, assuming they make it that long), half a bed of radishes, and a bed and a half is empty. I’m thinking of transplanting the catnip and dill to one of the empty beds. Except for the catnip, none of my herbs look too happy, and I’m wondering if they’re getting too much sun and if I might want to move the pots to a spot where they’ll get some afternoon shade. I wish my garlic chives would PERK THE HELL UP.
On the up side, most of my tomato plants in the big garden look happy and have flowers (I even have some small tomatoes!). On the down side, the early blight has hit a few of the plants, so I spent Sunday spraying fungicide on all the tomatoes in hopes that the blight will go the fuck away.
Gardening, man. It’s harrrrrrrd.
I’ve been craving Applebee’s (don’t judge me!) for ages now. We got an Applebee’s gift card for Christmas, and lately when Fred has asked, Saturday morning, what I want for lunch, I’ve suggested we go to Applebee’s. He’s no great fan of the restaurant, though, so we’ve always ended up going elsewhere.
The middle of last week, I decided I’d just call in a lunch order (the Oriental Chicken Salad is what I’ve been craving, specifically) and go pick it up, and thus my craving would be satisfied and I could move on with my life.
So around noon, I picked up the phone and dialed the number for their curbside service (or whatever the hell it’s called) and the person on the other end answered the phone and mumbled something. I could not understand one single solitary word she said, and I hesitated and opened my mouth to say “Pardon me?”, but then I was overcome with a wave of don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-this-itis, and I hung up the phone, cursed a blue streak, and had scrambled eggs for lunch instead.
This past Saturday, Fred started the what-do-you-want-for-lunch thing, and I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t care what we got one way or the other. He tried to get suggestions from me, but I am no fool because I knew that if I was like “I’d kind of like a chicken sandwich from McDonald’s”, he’d immediately want ANYTHING on earth that was NOT McDonald’s, because that’s the kind of pain in the ass he is.
So I was shocked when he said “Let’s just go to Applebee’s. You can get your chicken salad and we can use the gift card.”
We did go to Applebee’s and OF COURSE, because I am annoying to myself like that, I ended up getting the provolone stuffed meatballs instead of the chicken salad. But, I mean, come ON. You can’t show me a picture of cheese-stuffed meat and expect me to go for a salad.
I sure am craving a salad today, though…
Hangin’ in the pile o’ beds by the back door.
Smilin’.
Such a sweet girl.
A few minutes before I unceremoniously stuffed her into a carrier. She was suspicious.
Miss Dorfy has gone to her forever home in… (drumroll) St. Louis! Andrea (who comments at Love & Hisses as Luanne) saw Dorothy and fell in love and emailed me to see if it was a possibility. St. Louis is – we were both surprised to discover – six hours or so from Alabama, which is a long drive but not insanely so. We met at the shelter Saturday afternoon, and Dorothy was all “What the what now?” as she met her new Mom, and then when she went into her fancy new carrier she was all “Um, what?”, but she is such a sweet girl that she didn’t howl all the way to St. Louis (which was what I feared), instead she was quiet most of the way and curious about what was going on.
She joins her new brothers Oliver and Teen Baby and her sister Luanne, and I suspect that it won’t be long before they’re all thick as thieves. It was really nice to be able to meet her new Mom (you know I don’t get to meet the adopters very often), and I have no doubt that she’s going to be one happy, spoiled girl! You can see pictures of Dorothy as time goes by over at Facebook or on Flickr. (There’s not a lot at Flickr, but Andrea promises that once things are settled down (she recently moved) she’ll do her best to live up to her New Mom obligations!)
(©andrea) Stopping in Paducah on the way home.
(©andrea) She’s a St. Louis girl now!
The Spice Girls are doing well. They are three bright-eyed little monkeys, and every time I walk into the room, all three of them rush the door. Then they stop at the barrier (which is there specifically to stop the flow of kittens) and sniff around wildly. Luckily, there are only three of them and they’re small and easy to pick up at the same time.
They kill me with how cute they are!
Coriander snugglepants.
“Welcome to my home! Would you like a tour?” The girls like to sleep in the carrier most of the time – though sometimes they conk out in the middle of the floor.
(Cilantro) I find it endlessly fascinating to see the way their eyes change color, from the pupil outward.
“Do you SEE what I have to put up with?!”
Sweet Miss Clove.
The McMaos got their vaccinations Friday afternoon, and they were sleepy for the rest of the day.
That Fergus Simon, he always gives me such attitude.
“GOD, Mom, I DID my homework! Stop buggin’ me!”
“I said I WILL CLEAN MY ROOM! LEAVE ME ALONE! GOD!”
“How RUDE.”
Have I told you how beautiful you are, Corbie McGee?
“Not in the last ten minutes.”
SO beautiful.
“I know.”
Previously
2010: No entry.
2009: No entry.
2008: For the record, Fred continues to like cheese, just not on a salad. Or burger.
2007: Mister Boogers wiggled frantically, slid through the hole, and ran off across the yard.
2006: HOW ABOUT SOME MOURNING, PAUL?
2005: Dumbass things I have done today.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Ass in the Past will be the name of my 14th novel.
2000: Ah, the heart warms.