You know…I’ve tried my best to be gracious and welcoming, inviting you into my house month after month. But you are beginning to get on my nerves, staying too long and bringing all your friends and relatives with you to buzz around my face when I’m working. I hate to do this, I really do, but unless you leave your pack of hooligan besties at home, I’m going to have to bring out the big guns!
You have no problem coming and going as you please, since I’m in and out of the house a hundred times a day. Weeding, picking, watering…garden season is in full swing. I’ve picked over 20 pounds of raspberries, with many many more ready to ripen. You get swatted at every time I make jam, don’t you? At least you know enough to ditch the kitchen when my husband points the vacuum wand at you!
The back porch smells like a skunk because I’m drying garlic. I wish you could smell it here when I start dehydrating garlic and onions for my spice mixtures. Whooooeeeee. Smells like an Italian restaurant exploded. But in a good way, of course.
Most of the time I’m pretty cheerful. Pollyanna-ish, even. Except when I’m being a raving bitch. It was in the high 90s Wednesday, which is sure to make me grumpy, and I was feeling very sorry for myself when I surveyed the mountain of dishes in my kitchen. So…I wrote a post. I’m pretty sure anyone over 40 can relate, and if you’re younger…your day will come! Wednesday Whine
It’s not all work and sweat though. My friend Sue sent me over a bottle of wine, a fluffy, feathery wine stopper, and a box of Jelly Bath. I knew exactly what to do with the wine and stopper, of course, but hadn’t tried the Jelly Bath before. I Googled it and decided our septic tank was too sensitive to put it in the tub, but OH.MY.WORD…what a foot bath! It just took a little to turn a big bowl of hot water into a squishy, heavenly, indulgent soak. The mixture stayed hot for a looong time, and I loved every second of it.
Totally random, I know, but in case anyone is wondering, this old gal wears Spongebob jammies. On second thought, if anyone IS wondering, that’s really creepy. Let me know so I can ban you from my blog. That is all.
Last month I showed you my “weeder’s tan” – that strip of tan across my back where my shirt rides up and my pants ride down as I’m bent over weeding. I’ve found a way to eliminate that, and it doesn’t require any stinky self-tanner!
I hate to use the word “inhibited”, because it sounds so uptight, but I was certainly a modest young woman in the early ’70s. Definitely not a “dance naked to the music under a black light” kind of girl. Now I am coming into my own and discovering how liberating it is to sun worship (aka: picking peas and weeding) without a pesky shirt in my way. As long as I stay in the upper left quadrant of my garden, I have total privacy. Well, at least I thought I did until I saw YOU buzzing in the kitchen window. See anything you like, fly?!
As a fly on my wall, you’re privy to everything that is going on – not just the funny and entertaining stuff. So you’ve seen a lot of eyes wiped and noses blown recently, because our beloved German Shorthaired Pointer, Heidi, is in her final days. The vet gave her a month, but I think we will be taking her for the long ride in the next few days. She’s full of cancer, and I won’t let her suffer.
We’re going to bring her home and lay her to rest by the chicken coop where she can guard her feathered friends.
She’s had the best life any dog could hope to enjoy – hills to run, gophers to unearth, chickens to herd, and lots of love. I know I’ll see her at the bridge.
I’m sure it smacks of passive-aggressive behavior, but since my husband never reads my blogs, I feel perfectly justified in poking fun at him. There are no small children here with their clever little thoughts, so I have to find my material where I can.
He’s been losing weight, and is too frugal to buy new jeans. He went out to gather eggs and came back up the porch with both hands full of eggs and his pants beginning to fall down. By the time he got over to the counter they were around his ankles, and I just happened to have the camera in front of me. Oh yes…I got the shot even though I was laughing so hard I thought it would be all blurry. Actually, I got two photos, but the next one has him turning around glaring at the camera (okay, at me!) and I don’t think anyone wants to see that!
That’s all I’ve got, so this would be a good time to go visit these wonderful blogs:
Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Spatulas on Parade
Sorry Kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others