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I saw a shirt in Goodwill the other day that made me laugh.
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Strategically placed boobies.
The blue footed kind…
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As someone who reads 3-4 books a week, these statistics completely blew my mind. But oddly enough, they also explain a lot.
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For my black thumbed friends who say they even manage to kill succulents… a beautiful solution.
My thumb is green, but even I’m tempted.
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This is pure gold.
🤣
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There are currently 31 houseplants in our home and my husband is rapidly running out of jokes about living in a jungle.
There are big plants…
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And small plants.
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Plants that started out small… but have grown too big for their pots.
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Hell, there are even plants trying to make a run for it and escape their pots altogether.
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The money tree hasn’t netted me one red cent…
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And the pothos will probably wrap around my legs and swallow me whole one day…
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But I love plants and never seem to get my fill.
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Exactly!
Although by the looks of that picture, I actually do have all of those plants.
🤣
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Have you seen the new yellow watermelons at the grocery store?
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I had to try one… and to be honest I wasn’t that impressed. The texture was a little strange and I don’t think it was nearly as sweet as the red.
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No wonder it always looks like dolphins are having fun. They’re high.
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I’ve had this houseplant on a window shelf for years. I can’t remember the name, but it’s always been a small steady presence…until this month when it decided to grow long tentacles and turn into an alien. If I disappear from WordPress suddenly? You’ll know why.
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Don’t think raccoons are accomplished acrobats? I beg to differ.
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We’re dry in Maine. Unusually dry for this time of year. As in parts of our lawn are crunching and half the state is in drought conditions. Me? I’m still dragging 300 feet of hose out to the back 40 to keep our new trees alive. It seems we just can’t win when it comes to picking a time to plant.
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Whaaat! Not my ice cream.
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Whew. Only Floridian ice cream.
Sorry Florida..
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I just read an interesting article.
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Plants are our friends. They feed us, heal us, beautify our planet and cleanse our air. But now? It looks like they might be the answer to that pesky global plague.
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Go forth and research my friends!
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has discovered the back of the den couch.
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And an event of this magnitude must be documented by taking numerous photographs.
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From various angles and distance ranges.
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Chill Dudley…. it’s the price you pay for living here.
But the real reason for this drivel filled post?
My succulent ….
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Who is clearly trying to run away from home.
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And after all I’ve done for him.
Very disappointing.
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When you have a lawn as big as ours, mowing can be a two day affair. The husband and I tag team it… me on the push mower for the front lawn, sides, upper back and around the barn…. him on the tractor for the large expanses. Did I mention we have a veritable mowing fleet?
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While his sections are bigger, mine are actually harder because I make a point of never blowing grass in the flower beds.
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That mulched section under the tree used to be filled with perennials…
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Until the husband flung so much grass in there all the flowers got choked out and I got tired of breaking my back weeding. But I digress..
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After mowing comes trimming.
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And trust me, there’s a lot of that. I just added these two beauties to my stone wall bed…
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And filled the baby barn’s bed with its annual marigolds. I added some tickseed (coreopsis) as well, but I’m afraid it might get too much sun… so it’s success has yet to be determined.
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Yup, it’s exhausting.
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But when everything is freshly mowed and trimmed?
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I’m a seriously happy camper.
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Though the same can’t be said for his Lordship….
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Who gives me the evil eye from the back of the couch.
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In the continuing saga My Air Smells Better Than Yours, Neener Neener, I bring you…. lilacs.
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I will forever be grateful to the previous owner of our house for planting lilac bushes 40 odd years ago.
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Lilacs are slow growers and take a long time to come into maturity.
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But when you have some that reach the height of your roof?
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Life is good.
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And it smells even better.
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The weather is warming, the grass is greening and the danger of frost has passed… we hope. (I live in Maine, it can snow on Memorial Day) So now it’s time for blooms!
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There’s nothing I love more than going greenhouse shopping. Being surrounded by bright flowering plants probably drops my blood pressure by 20 points. It also drops my bank balance considerably, but we won’t talk about that.
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I came home with this interesting shrub.
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A weigela florida. Fingers crossed it does well in the spot I picked.
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Two boxes of pretties for my front garden bed…
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Which turns out wasn’t nearly enough. Damn, I’ll have to go shopping again.
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A hanging geranium for the back deck… and for Lord Dudley to stare at. That’s him in the window directly behind it.. plotting revenge on me for keeping him in the house.
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And finally, a bouquet for the kitchen.
Flowers. They always make me smile.
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Well, almost always.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has been exercising. Unfortunately, the part of his anatomy he’s strengthening are his teeth.
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Results of his daily work outs? My spider plants that are being nibbled down to nubs. Enter kitty wheat grass.
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Something healthy and less likely to cause his premature demise at the hands of an annoyed human.
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Upon first introduction, he was not enthusiastic.
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But after the first chomp, he was hooked.
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Here’s hoping it’s tastier than my houseplants.
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After thoroughly whipping my other half in a marathon Scrabble session in the barn last weekend, I took a good look around.
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And realized what an amazing storage building filled with absolute crap ….
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To seriously alcohol–centric man cave transformation we had wrought.
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Yay us.
And to this glorious rustic palace of play? I added a few new things.
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Because if there was ever a more perfect place for my fully operational spastic poop drone… I don’t know where it could be.
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To the bar, I added an acrylic box of appropriately themed cocktail napkins.
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Each more true than the last.
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Alongside the napkins there are now swizzle sticks.
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Some are shaped like twigs in honor of their origin.
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And some are shaped like jazz hands… because it’s just delightfully creepy.
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And since no man cave with a bar should be without them?
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Hair spray and a comb to repair follicle damage the walk from our wind blown house wreaks on my unruly tresses.
And if you’re cringing over that addition gentlemen?
Viola!
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I also added a plant.
Granted, it’s a just small succulent…. but I believe my eventual takeover of the premises is progressing quite nicely.
😈
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River's world..... 