Happy Birthday to Me!

Sometimes heavily placed hints work. Remember this? The younger son took the bait and ran with it, and The Sniffer arrived in the mail yesterday. The elder one did a similar birthday surprise a few years back. Sons and Darling DiLlies are the best. Looks like my birthday celebration has started early this year.

Time for Thyme

In the latest chapter of My Brown Thumb Ain't So Brown These Days, please behold all of these adorable baby plants! I'm planning giving over a good half of my yard to creeping thyme. It crowds out weeds, thrives on neglect, and is drought tolerant. It's also pretty, fragrant, and has these sweet, tiny pink flowers! I bought eight plants from the greenhouse last summer and only half of them survived the winter, so I thought I'd give raising them from seed a shot. We shall see how these fare once they are out in the yard. Wish me luck. And a greener thumb.

James & Elliott

Way back in 1977, there was a movie called Capricorn One showing up at your local theater. I wonder if Miss Barbra saw the film. Because the idea that her ex-husband is to the right in this photo, and her future husband is to the left kind of blows my mind. Discuss.

I'm a Fine Wine

MorningCat

So handsome and elegant with those crossed paws.

Nice Boat!

About an hour ago, someone with a South Dakota phone number texted me this photo. The number was not familiar to me, neither is this location, nor is the boat. Is some unknown admirer giving me this boat for my birthday? Is the owner of this boat showing it off, as in, hey, I just bought this great boat and I'm taking it out on the water for the first time today, wish you were here! Was it merely a wrong number? It reminds me a bit of my online dating experiments where fellows would often have photos, not of them, but of their expensive motorized toys, sometimes as their main profile photo. Like motorcycles and fast cars, and, yes, boats. Which I liked better than the photos of them posing with a dead fish or fowl or four-legged beast they had bagged. But that's not saying much. All I know is, a mystery person sent me a picture of a boat this morning.  

Happy Cat

I used to have one of these. A plate adorned with an image of a kitty indulging himself in the cat-mint bed. He looks a touch intoxicated. And very, very pleased. The artist is Zoe Stokes, who did a series of paintings featuring cats. I have planted the bug in the younger son's brain concerning this plate and how much his mother would be happy to own it again. Since my birthday is coming up and all. We shall see if it works.

Boy Bands, Tarot Cards, and Other Things The Fairies Stole.

Now get busy writing!

Sort of Like Watching the Pot That Won't Boil

Yes, those are the freshly and professionally pedicured toes on my left foot. The right foot looks pretty much the same, just a mirror image. Without the toe rings. Why is she sharing her pedi with the world, you might wonder. Well. I found myself last week with very sad hands. So sad and in need of rest that I couldn't muster the spoons to trim my ridiculously long toe nails. Then there was that pesky crack in my left great toe nail that had popped open again. Last January I was out in the garage putting away Christmas decorations wearing, silly me, flip flops. And I stubbed my toe. Really hard, my toe was bruised and I thought I might lose the nail altogether. But no, it remained anchored solidly to my toe with a nasty crack running nearly all the way across the nail in a jagged slant. Still attached to live flesh, I might add. I had been getting by with applying nail silks to the crack and setting it with crazy glue. This method worked for about a month or so. Last week I just didn't have the energy to deal with it, so I made an appointment at my fave nail salon. The technician had a great solution that should hold things together until the nail grows out. She applied an acrylic build-up to my toe nail and smoothed it out so it looks pretty natural. Then she painted 'em all up pretty with a fancy design. This should hold up for over a month! You never realize how slow your toe nails grow until you're watching them. 

Can I Chew This?

Not literally, of course. But have I taken something on that is beyond my current abilities? I have done all the tasks in the past that I must do to finish my bathroom. Hanging and finishing drywall? Check. Installing ceramic tile? Check. And I did defeat that miserable floor and put in a new one. It just looks so terribly raw and unfinished. And I'm on my own schedule to get it done, so I'm definitely going to take my time and use my daily spoon allotment wisely. This, boys and girls, is the bathtub of my dreams. It is deep and wide and has plenty of room for me in it. Once I finish the shower surround, I believe I will have earned showering and bathing in it. And everyone I come in contact with will be happy that I smell better than average. Whatever that means.

Just Because

Looking Up

I'm mildly confused. Does one "check out" men when turning left? In the paying for or sizing up sort of way? Or are they completely separate things? Neither one seems wholesome and appropriate. There are probably some unscrupulous people out there who might take this the wrong way. Entirely.

Hello, Summer

It's chilly out, 53 degrees, which is great for a Solstice fire. It's also damp, which is not so great for a fire ritual. I'll give it a shot tomorrow night. The dream of Midsummer will just have to wait. Until it's more summerlike. It's snowing up in the mountains tonight. I like how Colorado celebrates the first day of summer.

Let There Be Fixtures!

It's beginning to look more like a bathroom. The toilet and sink have returned from the garage. I am happy to report that they both are fully functional. Now for a few days of resting my cranky hands before we get on with phase two, building and tiling the shower surround. Monday is on the calendar for tile shopping. Noting fancy, just white subway tile with a very narrow grout line. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. 

Time Flies Dept.

I would like to wish a most festivous natal day to my firstborn. He's much taller now and the shoes he is swimming in would be much too small. For most of the next year he will be half my age, I do love interesting numerical trivial things. Have a lovely day, my beamish boy. June 20th, the day I met you for the first time, will always be one of my favorites. 

And Now We Wait

For the plumber. Who said he would be here this morning to move the sink and toilet back in from the garage and put them in here. Where they can actually be used. I do like the new floor. And that sassy shade of magenta on the walls called Diva Glam. Next I tackle the shower surround. But today the hands are resting. What's for lunch?

A Comfy Chair, A Friendly Ear

Therapy. I've heard that a person is pretty darn lucky to find a good therapist/counselor, that half of them aren't particularly good. And then you have to find one that you trust, one who clicks with you and seems to get what is going on with you. Making it more likely that you'll get the help that you need. I feel awfully fortunate that I found a wonderful, competent, and somewhat demanding counselor at two different, very difficult times in my life. The first time was when I was nineteen. I had dropped out of college, gained some weight, and was miserable. More recently was nearly fifteen years ago when my husband and I went through marriage counseling. We had sessions mostly together but a few times each of us went alone. I can honestly say that both times the therapy was life-saving as well as life-affirming. I love this illustration*, it so accurately depicts how counseling works when it is successful. It also reminds me of my mom, who would say it was time for bed and that sleep knits up that raveled sleeve of care. I didn't know she was quoting Shakespeare's MacBeth and have always wondered if she knew at the time. It was years before I realized it, she had so many weird and quirky sayings she casually dropped into conversations. My tangled mess of yarn is mostly neatly wound up and in its basket these days. Some of the credit for that goes all the way back to some lessons learned that first time around in counseling. Sometimes all it takes is a good night's sleep. All I know is, I'm still here, and counseling is partly responsible for that fact.

*I was not able to find out who the artist is that created the illustration. If it's you, please comment!

Diva Glam P120-6 By Behr in Semi-Gloss

Because what girl doesn't want a bathroom that matches her purse?

The View From My Desk Chair

Return to Grace and Frankie

Some series you binge on from the very first episode. Some it can take a few viewings to become fully engaged. So. Based on this quote, I am ready to give Grace and Frankie another look. 

Not the time, Grace! I can't lube a vagina with one hand and smack an orangutan with the other!

Because what's not to like about Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda? And their exes, played by Sam Waterston and Martin Sheen, who are now a couple, add just the weirdest twist to make things fun. I'm giving Grace and Frankie one more chance to grab me! Because what could possibly go wrong with this type of multitasking?

The Underfloor

Measure like, a gazillion times. Cut once. Trim a little more off two more times. Swearing, lots of swearing, consisting mainly of copious use of all the variations of the word fuck. Then, like magic, the new underlayment is in place. Tomorrow, we shall paint, we shall put in new flooring, we shall install new baseboard. This bathroom redo is coming along nicely.

I Am Woman

In the battle between woman and ceramic tile floor with 1/2" plywood underlayment held together with screws, nails, caulk, grout, and various other adhesives, woman has prevailed. I did have considerable help from a hammer, wrecking bar, and a great little battery-powered circular saw that Heather loaned me. She has all the tools. Yes, I wore leather work gloves and safety goggles. The first day I wore flip-flops but then switched to boots. Because I'm smarter than I may appear at times. I need to sweep. And sleep. And a shower. And a beer. But not all at the same time.

Progress

Space where the tub used to be.

Old tub.

Old shower surround.

New tub.

Introverts Will Understand

My electrician dropped by last week and fixed some stuff and installed some stuff and generally moved wires and such around. So my doorbell is functional once more. Yay! In other news, damn, my doorbell works again.

The Ceiling Fan of My Dreams

At last, I have a ceiling fan in my bedroom! I love how it looks like a gigantic flower that twirls.

Even more fun! There's a remote!

Pure Evil

Until I knew better, I thought this was a pleasant little groundcover plant. There is nothing pleasant about this miserable, pervasive weed. Commonly referred to as goathead or puncture plant, its official name is Tribulus terrestris, and it's a nasty, evil little bugger.

Look! It gets a tiny, pretty yellow flower on it! But you want to catch the miserable bastard and yank it out by the root before the flower forms. I find it's also effective to use a hoe to scrape off the tiny plants before they flower and produce the hard, pointy seeds.

You can see the burrs beginning to form on the underside of the flowers. They start out green and then dry to a tan to brown color and become hard with several sharp points. I've heard that the seeds remain viable up to seven years and then germinate when conditions are right.

It's my goal to have a barefoot friendly patch of lawn in my backyard. Until this infestation of goathead is eradicated I'm definitely wearing shoes! My garden Crocs have a thick enough sole to protect my feet. There were so many burrs last summer the sole would be totally covered with them after working in the yard. I'd sit down with a pair of needle nose pliers and carefully remove them into the garbage. Don't compost them! They'll germinate and spread. Burning them is effective but I just make sure both the burrs and the plants go into the garbage. Also, please wear leather gloves when pulling them or removing them from your shoes to avoid ouchies. Weeds in general are a pain in the ass, but these miserable fuckers are a pain wherever they lodge.

Kitty Natal Day

To the left we have baby Newton and to the right we have baby Einstein. Today is their birthday, or at least it's the day I somewhat arbitrarily chose by counting back sevenish weeks from the day we adopted them. We lost Steinie nearly four years ago in July but Newt is still with us and is thirteen today. I'll give him a little extra trout feast at bedtime. He's a very good boy. Most of the time. As good as a cat can be, I suppose. I do adore him.

Sharpies Forever!

A friend recently found a Sharpie marker inside his bag of chips when he opened it up. Which reminds me of how much I adore Sharpies. And chips.

I have two containers full of Sharpies in many assorted colors. I also have two or three in my purse at all times. You never know when you might need a Sharpie.

The twin tip variety holds a special place in my heart. Giving you the choice of writing with the fine tip end or the ultra fine tip end in one brilliant color. 

The metallic ones are just plain cool. I actually repaired some scratches on the frame of an antique mirror and I defy you to see where the damage was! Sharpies. One of the best things ever.

Brown Thumb Notwithstanding

I have been potting today. Clearing out the old and putting in the new. Whilst clearing out the old for some new begonias, I found something alive under all the dried out crud from last year. Tiny new leaves and a flower bud ready to reach up to the sun! Remnants of the pink gerbera daisy that resided in that pot last summer and overwintered in the garage came back to life! Given the mostly mild temps last winter, it didn't freeze in my attached garage. Here I am, with a slightly greener brown thumb, delighted by the fact that an annual from last year survived. I guess that balances out the fact that close to ten established perennials did not make it. And one that did make it looks like crap and will soon be dug up and hauled to the compost corner. You'd think I enjoy getting filthy and exhausted.

Hello, June