Seriously, if you dote on resurrected Twinkies you don't need to be coming to my house any time soon for dinner. You'll be extremely disappointed with my made-from-scratch chemical independent organic cuisine. Does anyone remember when those brown whatever's of flawed filling used to be stuffed with something that actually resembled whipped cream? Progress sometimes is regress when profit is involved. Progress is always regress when junk food is involved. What amazes and baffles is that no matter how inferior a product becomes there's still a humongous audience that LOVES it. Does anyone have taste buds that actually work anymore? Perhaps it's just the fact that my belief is if I'm going to stuff artery clogging heart attack eats into my mouth they had better be top of the line rockin' good.
I'm dragging my feet this morning that has all too fast turned into this afternoon. I'm having a difficult time mentally adjusting to possessing no buying power, I guess. I managed to render my Easter cactus deader than a door nail, and you know how dead a door nail can appear. It needed new soil, fertilizer, better pot...I was thinking I could manage that a few months down the road BUT I guess that was going to be a few months too late. When it was in its glory, the salmon blooms were magic after a long winter. Now I just want to cry.
Andee's dragging to the end of the line also, and I'm doing all I can to keep his good quality of life in existence for one more day, for one more week, for one more month. He just got over a bladder infection and now has an allergy to turkey, along with his already allergies to beef and chicken. The bladder infection could cause the allergy...the allergy could cause the bladder infection...no one knows or at this point cares. He loved munching on raw turkey breasts. It's what has kept the meat still on his bones as he's become extremely finicky in his old age. Finally, after a two week search we have two sources for raw bison meat and Andee's eating and happy once more. Kidney disease has sealed his fate, though, and I just love him as much as I can while I can.
The raised vegetable beds sort of are okay. I've searched high and low in my stash of yard goodies for makeshift supports and somewhere along the way I guess they all vanished, probably from pure exhaustion of use. The runner beans are twining around themselves to their hearts content and hopefully they won't strangle themselves to death. The soil hasn't compressed itself enough to support the corn very well. It needs a year of weather and gravity to make it less loose. With all the rain the corn lays sideways, then uprights itself when the sun shines again, but none of it is growing straight and tall anymore. Only time will tell if it manages to succeed in spite of itself or me, or if it will be somewhat of a flop.
Knees, hips, neck...icing myself daily these past few months. Sometimes I think I should just bury myself in a vat of ice cubes and be done with it. I would give up all wisdom learned and earned these many years...you know, that wisdom that no one wants to hear, for two brand new knees and the hips of a young dancer; but alas, it's just me, my chiropractor, and ICE that makes or breaks my life.
Tonight I think I'm cutting my own hair, or a more accurate description of the deed I intent to do is...tonight I'm going to hack my hair off and pray it doesn't become a short bob. Since I can't see the back of my head or my arms when they are wrapped around the back of my head; with hand mirror, ruler, sharp scissors and two hands less than I really need, I'll be cutting and re-cutting until it all layers appropriately or I scream and give up. Of course, I won't totally abandon the ship, or I would be a topic of hilarious discussion when I return to work Monday. I'll mess with it each ensuing day until it makes me happy or is too short to mess with any more.
Wow! 3:30 and yard work is still only a thought away. Time to actually get dressed and brave the wild outdoors with pruners, saw, and rake in hand. Small concrete statues still languish in the darkness of the storage room and my feet can find no place to set themselves down as I try to dig my way through all that crap that has accumulated this past year. To end this on somewhat of a higher note, I fought off mosquitoes earlier this dry day to snap pics of what is left in flower after never-ending never never-ending rain. Most flew out-of-existence into the recycle bin; these are the ones that escaped. I'm getting dressed and disappearing into my happy place...my gardens.
This plant evidently had a mind of its own.
Fragrance of Beaman's Pepsin Chewing Gum
Carpenter Bee on Summersweet
Fragrance of Licorice