The sun came out for like a minute today, so I raced to a garden center and bought just enough to put in this planter:
Do not get excited. I still have this entire flower bed.
Aside from the hosta and the columbine, you are looking at a photo of weeds and cat poop. Yes, cat poop. There is a neighborhood cat who prefers the protected shelter of my living room window awning to do its cat business. We may have discussed this before. I put down some red pepper, which I read you’re not supposed to do because it might harm the cat. I am a cat lover, but I didn’t really care. There is no smell as nasty in your flower bed as cat poo. At any rate, it did not deter the cat. My new tactic is to fill the area with needles dropped from my neighbor’s pine tree.
So far, so good.
When the sun came out for that minute, I also bought a new swim suit. This was silly. For one thing, it’s supposed to be 57 degrees on Saturday — Fahrenheit, not Celsius. It’s not exactly swim suit weather around here this year. For another thing, I made myself count my swim suits before we went to Florida this spring and I think the number was nine — nine swim suits.
Here’s the thing: I don’t really swim.
Nor do I lounge at the beach so much.
I see that swim suits are 40 percent off and I flip out. MUST GET NEW SWIM SUIT!!!!
My sister Cyberspace Sarah is supposed to hold me accountable in my pointless swim suit addiction, but I am starting to suspect that she finds her job more funny than serious.
Why else would I own
nine ten swim suits.