Every spring, I take the plants I brought indoors for the winter back outside. I feed them, re-pot them if needed, water them and wait for the sunshine to do it's job and bring them back to the beautifully crafted blossoms and foliage that they were meant to share.
I have a large planter that I didn't plant properly two years ago, and the dirt was still in it from when my lovely flowers died from too much watering. I didn't put holes in it to drain, nor did I put the usual drainage materials in the bottom...why should I? There were no drainage holes...whatever. They drowned, it was my fault. I knew better. It was still sitting in the garage, dirt and all. So, this year, I decided I was going to do this thing up right. Had Chris Sacco drill some holes in the bottom of it for me, bought the drainage materials for the bottom, filled it halfway with styrofoam peanuts, (those bitches kept blowing out- because, of course, I picked a windy day to put the lightest thing on earth besides air in a freaking pot o' death. Made Kendrick and Camille chase them and pick them up. Should have video taped that...pretty funny stuff.) put landscaping material on top of that, then proceeded with the filling of the large pot with good potting soil. I even bought little clay feet to keep the pot off of the concrete so that it wouldn't stain it.
That was two months ago. It's still sitting, on it's new clay feet, in front of our porch. No flowers in it. However, the day before yesterday, I was coming back from grocery shopping and noticed that our neighborhood cat, Snickers, (I think she's hormonal cuz she's crazier than I am) was laying in it, curled up and snoozing the day away. There's a large Boston fern in front of it and a couple of large geraniums around it, so she's kind of hidden. Probably thinks she's camouflaged there. And I guess she is, because she scared the living shit out of me. She's kinda the same colors as the new dirt. And, there's plenty of room left over in the pot when she's in it, so it's not like it's obvious that she's in it, if you're not paying attention or looking for her. (Okay, I believe I just described the very meaning of camouflage.) But, when she picks her little head up, squints at you and does her raspy, half meow-half 80 year old smoker's voice- crazy hormonal cat gonna eat you alive wail at you because you just woke her up with a start, it's a little unnerving. Not gonna lie, I jumped. Well, okay...if you know me, you know I didn't REALLY jump, but...I moved my fat quickly...there.
So, now...evidently, she's in there every morning, curled up, sleeping and dreaming of chasing mice and birds and finding her cat-man named Tom and settling down and starting a family of beautiful kittens that will be photographed and hopefully be in those pictures that everyone posts on facebook that nobody else wants to see. I mean, I like cats, and when I see yet one more photograph of someone's cat (I've even posted them) or even when that person posts photos of somebody else's kittens or cats that they got off of their "too cute" board on Pinterest, I'm like..."Really? Do you really think we want to see ANOTHER photo of...Oh, . . . wow...that's adorable." (None of this will happen though, because Snickers was spayed about three years ago. So, her dreams of Catman Tom and kitties are just that, dreams.) I now have a planter, with a cat in it. A cat named Snickers, who John always calls Skittles because for the first year, he couldn't remember her name...and now, it's just habit. I was going to go get some plants to put in there tomorrow. But now, I'm hesitant. She's so danged cute all curled up in it. It's late July after all. I know, I'll photograph her in the morning and post it on facebook, then, I'll go get some plants for the catpot.
I just looked back at my writing and thought..."who could have thought I could write four long paragraphs about a cat in a flowerpot?" Not that it matters. It doesn't. It was just a thought.
I want a toaster with four slots, big enough for bagels. We have the same toaster that we got for our wedding, in 1995. It's 2014. It's been a great toaster- (thank you to whoever bought it for us, it's been well used!) BUT, it's time for a new one. You know the drill, no matter what setting you slide the little bar to, light or dark-it always comes out the same- half light and half dark. Then, you can't immediately put anything else in it, because when you push the lever down, it makes this LOUD, annoying, scare the cream cheese off your cute spreader that your sister got you for your birthday, BUUUUZZZZing sound and pops right back up. So, then the wait game begins. Let's see, I'll get the coffee going while I wait for it to change it's mind, and accept the two halves of the bagel I just smashed with my hand- on the paper towel- on top of the counter- so the bitch would fit into the too narrow, two slotted, geriatric toaster. Oh, come on! You know you've done it. The bagels are too thick, so, you have to smash them down to fit. Don't even act like you don't know what I'm talking about! So, I make the coffee, go back to the shiny, silver, buzzing machine of frustration, all the while quietly saying under my breath... "come on...okay... work...work you, bitch." AND, it works. BUT, no... it pops up even earlier, and the bagel isn't toasted. And, the waiting game begins again. Each time the toasting time gets shorter and the waiting time to avoid the BUZZER from hell gets longer. I hate that damn toaster. Maybe I'll buy a new one tomorrow when I go buy my plants for the catpot.
Okay, Words With Friends peeps, I have a beef. If you're going to play Words With Friends, you need to learn some WWF etiquette. Well, it's MY WWF etiquette. But, it's good advice...so as to not totally piss off your opponent. Here goes...#1. DO NOT freaking make a word, starting on the space right next to a triple letter score space. It's just rude. It keeps both you and your opponent from being able to use the triple letter blank. Ridiculous. That's the whole point of the game for me...try to get all the triple letter blanks. Okay, #2. If you are using a dictionary to help figure out long, uncommon words, you shouldn't be. If you are just that smart and know all of those big assed words, you shouldn't be playing against me. But then, that's why YOU ARE playing against me, isn't it? ass. And no, Scott, I'm not talking about you. Well, maybe a little. :) #3. If you are starting the game, try to make your word cover the left side of the board first. Just makes it easier to use all of the board. If you start on the right, it's harder to spread out to the left. Just do it. Trust me. That's all on that. For now.
It's now Sunday morning. Yep, Snickersskittles was in the pot. I will be posting this on facebook, too. You know I will. Then, I'm going to go buy a new, four holed, bagel sized toaster. :) And some catpot flowers??
I have a large planter that I didn't plant properly two years ago, and the dirt was still in it from when my lovely flowers died from too much watering. I didn't put holes in it to drain, nor did I put the usual drainage materials in the bottom...why should I? There were no drainage holes...whatever. They drowned, it was my fault. I knew better. It was still sitting in the garage, dirt and all. So, this year, I decided I was going to do this thing up right. Had Chris Sacco drill some holes in the bottom of it for me, bought the drainage materials for the bottom, filled it halfway with styrofoam peanuts, (those bitches kept blowing out- because, of course, I picked a windy day to put the lightest thing on earth besides air in a freaking pot o' death. Made Kendrick and Camille chase them and pick them up. Should have video taped that...pretty funny stuff.) put landscaping material on top of that, then proceeded with the filling of the large pot with good potting soil. I even bought little clay feet to keep the pot off of the concrete so that it wouldn't stain it.
That was two months ago. It's still sitting, on it's new clay feet, in front of our porch. No flowers in it. However, the day before yesterday, I was coming back from grocery shopping and noticed that our neighborhood cat, Snickers, (I think she's hormonal cuz she's crazier than I am) was laying in it, curled up and snoozing the day away. There's a large Boston fern in front of it and a couple of large geraniums around it, so she's kind of hidden. Probably thinks she's camouflaged there. And I guess she is, because she scared the living shit out of me. She's kinda the same colors as the new dirt. And, there's plenty of room left over in the pot when she's in it, so it's not like it's obvious that she's in it, if you're not paying attention or looking for her. (Okay, I believe I just described the very meaning of camouflage.) But, when she picks her little head up, squints at you and does her raspy, half meow-half 80 year old smoker's voice- crazy hormonal cat gonna eat you alive wail at you because you just woke her up with a start, it's a little unnerving. Not gonna lie, I jumped. Well, okay...if you know me, you know I didn't REALLY jump, but...I moved my fat quickly...there.
So, now...evidently, she's in there every morning, curled up, sleeping and dreaming of chasing mice and birds and finding her cat-man named Tom and settling down and starting a family of beautiful kittens that will be photographed and hopefully be in those pictures that everyone posts on facebook that nobody else wants to see. I mean, I like cats, and when I see yet one more photograph of someone's cat (I've even posted them) or even when that person posts photos of somebody else's kittens or cats that they got off of their "too cute" board on Pinterest, I'm like..."Really? Do you really think we want to see ANOTHER photo of...Oh, . . . wow...that's adorable." (None of this will happen though, because Snickers was spayed about three years ago. So, her dreams of Catman Tom and kitties are just that, dreams.) I now have a planter, with a cat in it. A cat named Snickers, who John always calls Skittles because for the first year, he couldn't remember her name...and now, it's just habit. I was going to go get some plants to put in there tomorrow. But now, I'm hesitant. She's so danged cute all curled up in it. It's late July after all. I know, I'll photograph her in the morning and post it on facebook, then, I'll go get some plants for the catpot.
I just looked back at my writing and thought..."who could have thought I could write four long paragraphs about a cat in a flowerpot?" Not that it matters. It doesn't. It was just a thought.
I want a toaster with four slots, big enough for bagels. We have the same toaster that we got for our wedding, in 1995. It's 2014. It's been a great toaster- (thank you to whoever bought it for us, it's been well used!) BUT, it's time for a new one. You know the drill, no matter what setting you slide the little bar to, light or dark-it always comes out the same- half light and half dark. Then, you can't immediately put anything else in it, because when you push the lever down, it makes this LOUD, annoying, scare the cream cheese off your cute spreader that your sister got you for your birthday, BUUUUZZZZing sound and pops right back up. So, then the wait game begins. Let's see, I'll get the coffee going while I wait for it to change it's mind, and accept the two halves of the bagel I just smashed with my hand- on the paper towel- on top of the counter- so the bitch would fit into the too narrow, two slotted, geriatric toaster. Oh, come on! You know you've done it. The bagels are too thick, so, you have to smash them down to fit. Don't even act like you don't know what I'm talking about! So, I make the coffee, go back to the shiny, silver, buzzing machine of frustration, all the while quietly saying under my breath... "come on...okay... work...work you, bitch." AND, it works. BUT, no... it pops up even earlier, and the bagel isn't toasted. And, the waiting game begins again. Each time the toasting time gets shorter and the waiting time to avoid the BUZZER from hell gets longer. I hate that damn toaster. Maybe I'll buy a new one tomorrow when I go buy my plants for the catpot.
Okay, Words With Friends peeps, I have a beef. If you're going to play Words With Friends, you need to learn some WWF etiquette. Well, it's MY WWF etiquette. But, it's good advice...so as to not totally piss off your opponent. Here goes...#1. DO NOT freaking make a word, starting on the space right next to a triple letter score space. It's just rude. It keeps both you and your opponent from being able to use the triple letter blank. Ridiculous. That's the whole point of the game for me...try to get all the triple letter blanks. Okay, #2. If you are using a dictionary to help figure out long, uncommon words, you shouldn't be. If you are just that smart and know all of those big assed words, you shouldn't be playing against me. But then, that's why YOU ARE playing against me, isn't it? ass. And no, Scott, I'm not talking about you. Well, maybe a little. :) #3. If you are starting the game, try to make your word cover the left side of the board first. Just makes it easier to use all of the board. If you start on the right, it's harder to spread out to the left. Just do it. Trust me. That's all on that. For now.
It's now Sunday morning. Yep, Snickersskittles was in the pot. I will be posting this on facebook, too. You know I will. Then, I'm going to go buy a new, four holed, bagel sized toaster. :) And some catpot flowers??
