Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Three different Groups

It is interesting, the three different groups of morning glory plants that I have growing right now are all very different. There is bunch I brought to work which is growing profusely. It is in the full sun for most of the day. The leaves and vines are very rich and strong but no flowers.

Then there is another plant in my back yard which is in the full morning sun and it growing very tall. Toward the bottom where it comes out of the planter it is more spindly with stems and branches than full of leaves. There are no flowers or any evidence of oncoming blooms.

The third plant is the shortest and has the least amount of foliage but there have been two to three flowers a day for the past week. This plant is in shade until the middle of the day and has full sun until sunset (around 12-8 pm). Is this plant going to die soon and has to throw out its flowers in an attempt to procreate? Perhaps the other plants are robust and healthy and feel no stress nor need to bloom?

The blooms are lovely on that front porch plant. Deep rich purple.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Dog Day FOUR sure

Always the entrepeneurs, Pickles and Peretz borrowed Roddy the rotweiler's truck to make a firecracker (and I do
mean "cracker") run into NH this morning. For some reason they felt they needed to go undercover so they referred to each other as "Coldcut" and "Toothpick" during the run. I don't know how they made out financially, they never talk about those affairs to me or DbR, but I noticed they brought back a bicycle horn, a scooter, a shiny MyMelody bracelet and an eyepatch. I guess the Greenfield town kids are equipped for today's holiday. Pickles keeps calling Peretz "Coldcut", still, and they both giggle nervously when he do.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

today is thursday

just a few updates.
Pickles wormed out of his collar today. I was walking him around our backyard after the regular walk and he smelled something he wanted to investigate very badly out in the shrubby overgrowth. I couldn't see what it was and I didn't want him to roll in shit or a dead thing so I resisted him. He did not comply, which is odd. Usually he will resist but easily relent when I make my will known with conviction. We pulled in different directions resulting with him squeezing his head out and he was gone. I followed him around for a while, got sweaty in the humidity. I despaired at catching him because what am I going to grab? No collar. DbR did not run around, he stood in front of the Bricker smoking and keeping watch. I followed Pickles down the block to the weird apartments/crappy condo strip which reaches between Wells and Conway and he led me to the backyard of a family which spoke a slavish language between the children and mother. The father was nearby doing work on their humble sedan while she bbq'd a load of chicken on their hibachi. the chicken wasn't in pieces but a big piece which wasn't actually bbq'd but cooked in a big piece ( i know i repeat ) wrapped in foil. I tell ya, I wasn't staring and investigating this woman's cooking because remember Pickles was loose. They had two boys under 6 or 7 and a little girl younger than that. The little girl stayed on her swingset's teeter totter while her brothers and I tried to trap that dog. It was hard but I showed them my empty collar and they understood. It was the kind of family where the boys spoke English to me but their parents spoke Polish ? to them. They were white. One of the boys offered me a piece of --maybe it was pork, not chicken-- to lure Pickles who had squeezed out into the next yard which was spacious and depressing, given my trial. The three of us also squeezed into the yard and looked over at dog and I despaired continuously. Pickles rounded the big yard and started headed back toward us. I called to him knowing that never worked and held out the meat. He came. He must have been tired enough to be curious about me and the kids. I gave him a morsel of the meat while I leaned over him as securely as possible, still not believing, still expecting him to wiggle away and bolt. I got the collar on him and put it on the tightest setting. I called David who was holding the leash.

When I pulled out my iPhone and started to dial the older kid asked, "Is that your phone?" and I explained about my husband coming with the leash. I said thank you and headed out, leaning uncomfortably over the collared dog away from the back line of the yards, toward the pavement. They didn't ask me to dinner.

I am 71% ready to complete my next Pawl Bitt but I am lured by the second season of Veronica Mars, I love it so.

Last week the washing machine coughed and we had to call a repairman. He came and took out the offending piece of machinery and voila! Because I live in the same town as the Bricker, it was my task to meet repairman and let him in to do his $65 task. After he left, I started a load of DbR's clothes which had been sitting around the cellar since the machine paused. I eagerly started to do my own laundry directly afterwards which created a situation where I was doing everyone's laundry. His shirts have buttons and collars and a very nice cottony broadcloth kind of material which wrinkles. He tries to hang up his shirts directly after the dryer ends. Because I didn't want to throw them haphazardly into the bin, I gave them a little bit of a one two fold to keep them somewhat neat until he could hang them. He was pleased.

Tonight we were in his room talking about Tanya's bro doing computer programming when I noticed the bin of shirts still folded in a pile somewhat neatly but the pile was 66% depleted. "Are those the same shirts I folded?" I asked
"You never hung them up?"
"Do you dig through them to find the one you want or are you just using them as they come up in the pile?"
"Just using them."
I think that is so funny.

we went to the Famous Grille's on its opening day. I got us seated in a booth in the bar which was well lit and somewhat pleasant. The bar now wraps all the way around into the next room, dining room. I liked the way that looks, feels in the place. Our waitress seemed nice and eager to tell me about all their beers. I made her tell me the names of all the tap beer and they were all the most dull, dislikeable beers you can imagine. No "hot rod rye" or "hop devil" certainly no "beer of the gods." I asked her about the bottles which I guess were many because she paused. "what kind are you looking for?" she asked. "any IPAs" I plunged in, narrowing her list. "Oh, we have Harpoon IPA." which, if we are ever on the matchgame you can answer "Her least favorite IPA from the United States." when asked. I gave up and got a scotch and soda which was made strong and somewhat interesting in a dull way. We got through the greek-diner sized menu and were ignored by the waitress in favor of the folks sitting in the next booth who came after us. After another 5 minutes she came over and offered to take our menus, "get them out of the way". "Oh, I wanted to refer to it when I ordered." I informed. "Oh, I haven't taken your order." she realized verbally and walked away for another five or more minutes before coming back and taking the order! oy!
I ordered the gargonzola dip/garlic bread app and it was good. While eating it DbR and I realized that the people at the bar nearby were getting drunk and they were being "VERY LOUD" I said loudly. Loud enough for them to hear. They hushed and muttered amongst themselves until one lady (the loud one) said, "we better go, since we're getting so loud." more mutters "we don't want to (something) pipsqueak over there."
yes, I was called "Pipsqueak". I really thought they were being too loud to hear me complain loudly but they did hear me. It was an odd situation. Our food came and we were ignored some more by the waitress and then it seemed like another lady was helping her with busing and other tables and even though we sat there with empty plates and they cleaned off the table right next to us, neither one of them checked in to see if we wanted dessert or the check. They walked away, one even asking the next table over, "Do you have everything?" I was kind of grumpy about it. The lady who wasn't our waitress finally wandered back toward us and I leaned toward her, "Can you get our bill? Our waitress hasn't ..." I forget what I said here. Something more forceful than "checked in with us." and it wasn't "brought it" but it was definitely along the lines of "hasn't cared to ask if we want it." And she hustled away to come back (without the check) to tell us "she'll be right over with it." and she was right behind with it. The bill was $40 for the burger and three apps, two cokes and my drink. We gave at least $20 and decided not to go back any time soon.

The hail yesterday damaged 17% of my zinnias.