So! Whatch’alldoin’? Is it hot/cool/cold/rainy where you are? I’m in all FOUR of those right now. Saturday was weird – I left the house around 10a, it was blazing sun/82degrees, and I was beginning to regret the cute AF little blouse I was wearing, wishing I’d put on a tank top instead. As I headed south I could see some clouds forming over Peoria – okay, clouds. Good. Cool down that sunshine just a bit. But not Serious clouds (heh), y’know. Just those ‘cool the sun the hell down’ kinda clouds. Maybe – just maybe – a spit/sprinkle. Maybe. Ran some errands, ended up at the new library (which has a steel roof). I was in the stacks when, suddenly, I thought ‘eh…did the exhaust system just lose a belt or something?’ A constant rat-tat-tat-tat had everyone looking around, only to find out it was a deluge. On that steel roof. 3″ in about 46minutes. A friend used to tell me about watching storms roll in from over the mountains in New Mexico; it’s much like that here, minus the mountains. Driving back through the fields you can see forever and it’s fascinating to watch thunderstorms (or, in one instance, what looked to be a tornado) in the distance. And it was roiling, in the distance, as I headed north for home. Came back to find we’d had almost as much rain here as in Peoria – great for pulling up 3 wheelbarrows’ worth of weeds – including Borage. Lots and lots of borage. It is a gorgeous plant but it’s thuggish and omg. Reseeding? Like somebody is paying it by the hairy little plant! I remember the first borage plant I put in. I worried over that little thing. Ha. And? Every year I forget how indestructible it is – and every year I get at least 40 of the hairy little buggers. One of the only upsides to pulling borage plants is the smell. It has a clear, clean cucumber smell and, indeed, the flowers are often used in ice cubes both for their loveliness as well as the cucumber flavor! March and I were having a conversation (we have a LOT of those) awhile back about how, one minute you will be awash in ‘x’ note in perfumery (bath/body/home) and the next? Poof! Gawn. Cucumber is one such note – it was everywhere and in everything in the early 2000s and I think I wrote about this maybe a year ago? We went to this fab International grocery-cum-beauty shop in Bethesda (much like Merz), on the hunt for CUCUMBER. But could only find cucumber-melon which, to March, is like finding frog legs in those ice cubes. Not One Thing could we find that was straight-up cuke. But maybe we can approximate it with borage! hmmm… ShiKai has a ShiTon (heh. oh, c’mon!) of borage lotions but they all say unscented. Where’s the fun in that?
I’m going to be smelling like dirt and more dirt for the next few days – next week a gardening friend is coming down from Chicago to see my garden. My bfffe said ‘oh, we don’t care (about the state of the gardens) – we’re coming to see you‘. Me: ‘uh. no. YOU are coming to see me. and yes, you don’t care. However, Sue, who is a Master Gardener (and a very tiiiidy gardener at that) is coming specifically to See My Garden’ . So you know I am on the HOP to get this thing cleaned up – hence the ripping up of the borage and the bindweed, laying down fresh mulch and all the other things one needs to do before you can say the garden version of ‘oh, that old thing?’ tra-la-la! When people come 2.5 hours to see your garden they’d better have something decent to look at. I have 2 kitchen gardens, 4 borders and a whole lot of lawn to cut. Plus I have to get out mah cute little vintage tablecloths and really pretty teacups (I want the tea set from Father Brown); mostly I think I’ll channel my inner Richardson Wright (paraphrasing here:)”when in doubt (and when you don’t have a lot of time), take a spade and edge the beds”. Even ‘wild’ garden designs have some element of control that keeps the wild element looking designed rather than a big ol’ hot mess. And nothing about my garden is ‘wild’. So. Edging the hell out of those beds. Then I’ll break out the linens and stuff. Squee!
Sick pup. BIG sick pup. Luckily the garden is fenced and I can leave the back door open. Luckily. She. Is. Big. Which means Everything Her is BIG. I think it’s probably garden-variety (as in ‘Mom! I ate a whole LOT of dirt’) illin’ – I know she didn’t get any rabbits because she cannot be bothered to stir her 130-lb stumps to chase them. But she has been grazing all over the place. It’s that scary version of OMG. You aren’t eating. Here. I’ll make an egg for you. Then …she won’t eat the egg! It took me 5 whole minutes to get that egg down her. FIVE MINUTES! In normal times, it’s not even 1/5th of a second! Just about panic time I remember that all dogs have ickytummy now and again and it’s unlikely she is truly ill. I’ve got some beef liver in the freezer with her name on it. I’ll see how she is tomorrow, then boil that up. Honestly. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. She’s on Immodium and horse electrolytes and my nerves are shot. I think they do this on purpose.
That’s my life for the Right Now. I stay awash in 1932 and Acqua di Parma Magnolia body cream (not together – that’s hazmat waiting to happen). I smell good. When I layer it with 4 hrs of garden dirt, I smell glorious!
Whazzup with you? Tell me some stories. I’ll have the Sick Pup poke random.org and we’ll choose a winner or two.
Oh! speaking of winners: Nicevulady & mmkinpa! C’mon down to the gmail that is evilauntieanita !