My vacant uterus is really not your concern

Awhile back, a member of the group I spend a lot of time with announced that he and his wife were expecting. We were all very excited, and after congratulating him and asking a few questions (due date, etc.), someone turned the conversation to "Gee, I wonder who will be next to have a baby."

Looking at me.

WTF? I live alone with 2 cats and obsess over feeding wild birds, a piddly little garden, laminate floors, and the like. That doesn't strike me as the recipe for imminent impregnation.

It wasn't the first time they'd expressed concern over my biological clock ticking down to nothing, and I'm always taken aback. (I should note that these are not close friends) Despite my tomboyish nature, I really am well aware of how these things work, and I'm extremely aware of my age. So, really, I don't need mere acquaintances delving into my reproductive future, or lack thereof.

Does every childless person get this sort of questioning from random people?

Froggy Strikes a Pose

Until Sunday, I'd never actually seen a frog sitting on a lily pad, but what do you know -- the water garden frog found a comfy spot on one of the lily leaves, with another lily leaf overhead to shade him from the sun.


I'm already worrying about what he's going to do for winter. I hope he has the instinct NOT to bury himself in one of the flower pots that we plan to overwinter in a cool closet indoors.

Please don’t sing to me in the nursing home

Whenever I drive Route 50, my thoughts inevitably turn to death, terminal illness, nursing home life, and other unpleasant things. Maybe it’s because of all the roadside memorials.

On my last journey, I slipped in a CD of Neko Case and Gillian Welch songs, which made me think of my fit of downloading awhile back when I got 50 free songs for signing up for DSL. I love free things, so I wasn’t about to let those songs go to waste, but after depleting the site’s stock of Neko Case and Gillian Welch, I was stuck.

Finally I resorted to downloading some tunes from my high school and early college days – the songs that currently reside on cracked cassette tapes in my basement avalanche-o-crap. A little Bananarama, Irene Cara, Starship, The Cranberries, Creedance Clearwater Revival, songs from the “Good Morning Vietnam” soundtrack, etc.

It took me several weeks to recover from that brilliant move. Forgetting is the key to my survival. Just ask the Brooklyn Hillbilly, who is always saying, “Remember when…”, and I’m always answering, genuinely surprised, “No, I don’t...”

For me, nothing jars loose memories like music. Listening to those songs I remembered stuff that hadn’t been unearthed in years.

After recalling that mood fiasco, I thought of the typical nursing home/retirement community footage they show on TV – you know, the kind that shows residents gathered around to hear some young whippersnapper play the piano or sing oldies tunes. OMG, how devastating that would be. Shuffle your wheelchair in, S, and sit here while we conjure up memories of all your dead friends and loved ones, and all the things you used to do but can’t do now that your life consists of propelling a wheelchair up and down a long hall with your slippered feet.

Oh yeah, the music has since been unintentionally deleted from my hard drive, along with my original Neko Case & Gillian Welch files (grrr). Oh well, it was for the best, I suppose.

Sneaky Water Lily

Yeah, I know, enough already on the stupid water garden. Hang in there -- frost is nearing.

As you can see, I finally captured the lily. I took this at about 10:30 a.m., and by 3 p.m. it was closed up for the night. A flower with bankers' hours! Plus, it only bloomed 3 days total.

Next up is the leopard frog who is residing at least part time in the barrel garden. If I can get a picture of the frog, I swear, I'll stop (for this season).

Duct tape is good for a lot of things...

like repairing an inner tube, covering holes in upholstery, and holding your car together so it passes inspection.

What it's not so great for is covering the face to obscure one's identity during a robbery.

If done properly, the removal of the duct tape might have been adequate punishment for the crime.

Just the Look I Was Going For

As I've said before, going to get my haircut often leads to uncomfortable conversations about my hair.

Here's how it went today:

Stylist: So, how much do you want off?
Me: About an inch.
Stylist: And this is how you normally wear it -- kind of messed up on top?

Sigh.

(By the way, I had just dashed through a downpour about an hour earlier, so no, it's not how I normally wear it.)

Whaaaaaat????

OK, there's something seriously flawed with this survey.

You Belong in 1984

Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day.

What Year Do You Belong In?

Um, wild and over the top? Colorful at night? Maybe if I color my Scrabble tiles!

(Seen on Michelle's blog...)

Barrel Garden Update

It's only been since Father's Day that this thing has been going, and already, as you can see, the surface is just about covered.

This is the least attractive angle, but it shows less of the property. The water lily has bloomed once, and it has another bud emerging from the water. The first bloom only lasted a couple of days and was only out in the daytime. I missed it completely. I'm hoping I'll time it right to see bloom #2.

The parrot feather, in the upper right of this picture, has grown like crazy, even more so than the water lily. And the pickerel weed (with the blue/purple blooms) has flowered ever since the garden was created.

I'm happy with how the plants are doing, but the most exciting thing was when I walked by after sunset one evening and saw a rather plump leopard frog sitting on the edge of the barrel.