May 29, 2018

It should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I did not inherit my mother’s green thumb. Plants come to my house to die. My home is Stalag 17 for plants.

Charlie, however, takes after his father, who I’m certain planted his garden over a radioactive waste dump last year, and grew a zucchini as big as a cudgel.

Club Zucchini
Photo shamelessly stolen from my friend’s Facebook timeline.

Usually, we’ll do our own zucchini, and some green beans, peppers, tomatoes, eggplants, and last year, as a total vanity project, a whole box of pumpkins.

They pumpkins all got eaten by bores.

It was very sad.

This year, the garden has had a slow start. Just didn’t get things started in time.

Sad, nearly-barren garden boxes, with ANnie being of no help whatsoever.

Charlie is dropping in some Aloha Pepper seeds, from a couple of weird ones he picked up from Aldi the other day.

I have a feeling this garden is going to be the laziest garden in Apiary history.

Even lazier than the one pepper plant we accidentally grew with one of our succulents because Charlie cut peppers too aggressively one night at dinner, and a seed landed in the planter.

Until I have more updates in the garden, enjoy these photos from gardens past.


May 26, 2018

I seem to have developed an ear infection out of nowhere – probably picked up from Typhoid Charlie and his exposure to kids.

Both Charlie and I are complete disasters at the moment: me with my ear infection, and he with his terrible cough, general sinusitis, and recent development of Hairy Eyeball. (He thinks he’s got a cat hair stuck in his eye, I wonder where that could have come from?)

I’m hoping that I don’t feel so poorly that we won’t be able to make a sojourn down to Cincinnati to see The Brothers, including my brother, who would be coming up from Louisville.

If I find that I will, in fact, live through this trying time, I’ll have updates from my mini-vacation.


Author’s Note (May 27, 2018) : I had strep throat/ear infection, and Charlie had pink eye. We stayed home like a couple of bubonic shut-ins.

May 18, 2018

Had lunch up in Macedonia with K today. Since there isn’t a huge bevy of options, we hit First Watch again, and instead of the protein bowl, I opted for the roast beef sandwich.

If you’re a fan of roast beef sandwiches, I recommend the one from first watch: it includes caramelized onions and sun-dried tomatoes. Even though I don’t have a huge appetite on this new medication, I ate the whole damn thing. Which means that poor Charlie took out five chicken breasts for dinner for no reason.

I followed K to the consignment store to do a little window shopping while she consigned some clothes. I appreciate the patience and willpower people have for consignment shops. I personally cannot stand having paid $30 for a shirt, be offered $2 for consignment, and see the shop turn around and sell it for approximately a hojillion dollars. Someone in that equation is getting screwed, and it ain’t the consignment shop.

I almost bought a couple of blousy tops, but ended up passing. I’m sure I just threw out well over $500 in makeup I was never going to use, and I still need to konmari my own closets – I know there are things I’ll never wear, are now too big, and things I haven’t worn in 30 pounds. I just don’t really need to add to it. Maybe when I’m not on a tight budget and after I’ve unburdened myself of the junk I already have.

I’m trying to live lighter. In addition to cleaning out the vanity, my office bookcase, and my intentions to go through closets, I finally cleaned out my car. I threw so much crap away. Why have I been carrying around all of this crap for so long? Why did I feel so married to keeping it? I don’t know, but it felt really good not to leave the consignment shop with more stuff.