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06.27.2004 - 3:25 p.m.
Sunday
I bought a digital camera so
I could, you know, obsessively document every tedious moment
of my life, and I am certainly not going to spare you
the occasional slideshow.
It's not that I...uhh...worry
that my existence has no MEANING without OBSERVATION, or anything.
*cough*
�
Our potted blueberry
bush, which is actually producing fruit this year. Hooray!
�
Okay, this is our hydrangea,
which I expected to have blue flowers - instead, this gaudy pink!
Someone told me you had to put copper in the dirt of your hydrangeas
(they said to stick NAILS down there) because that's what turns
them blue. Can someone verify that this person was not feeding
me a raft of shit?
�
Our newly yellow house.
Yellow! Yellow for happy! Happy house!
:::
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Okay. This requires
explanation. Scene: JB and I are vacationing at a cabin on Mt.
Rainier a while back. We are driving along a rural neighborhood
when JB suddenly brakes. "What's that?" he asks, pointing
at a grey lump on the side of the road. "A gross stuffed
animal," I reply. "Let's rescue it," he says.
I stare at him. "Seriously!" he says. I open the truck
door, step out, and gingerly pick up a matted thing that bleeds
off about a bucketful of water. "Ugh," I tell JB. "Aw,"
he says. We name the lump Harpy. Harpy appears to be a seal.
�
At the cabin, we throw
Harpy in the washing machine. JB is startled when Harpy emerges.
"Did we bleach him?" he asks nervously. Harpy
had been a very dirty, unloved stuffed animal. His eyes had been
removed and there was a small nail hammered through each of his
front - paws? flippers?. I don't want to know how that happened,
seriously.
�
Harpy is now throughly
cherished and carried around by Dog. And used as a pillow. And
only occasionally chewed.
:::
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When we had Dog groomed
recently, she came back with a very, very cheesy bandana tied
around her neck.
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Clearly our only course
of action was to tie the bandana around Cat.
�
:::
These are some photos
of the graveyard a few blocks from us. Oooh, maudlin.
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Somethin' creepy about
them words. Makes you think of shamblin' zombies, don't it?
�
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Rounding out our foray
into Gothville, here is a little spot we discovered
on a walk - resting grounds for Fido and Rover, I'm guessing.
Or maybe it's a neighborhood serial killer! With a lot of chutzpah!
�
:::
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Aaand...baby ducks.
Yup. Which reminds me of a stupid riddle:
MR DUCKS.
MR NOT DUCKS.
OSAR.
CM WINGS.
LIB!
MR DUCKS!
:::
PS. I have a couple more gmail
invites. Sling me a line by Monday evening if you're interested!
last ::: next
30
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004
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