Ha ha ha!! Cordy's magical way of wording !
Hermes Cafe Bon Temps~Good Times Cafe
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Ha ha ha!! Cordy's magical way of wording !
Great look! Your hair up adds height and sophistication to the whole ensemble.
I was trying to think of the word. You are right! Sophisticated. I like ppup with her hair up too. It also makes her look vibrant.
Yes, I like the way it elevates your cheekbones PbP! The suit is also very slimming.
I was so happy when I got back home after dinner to a neat and tidy apartment, but then BF claimed he couldn't even tell the difference.
This is why we have separate apartments. I like the idea of us living together, but the domestic reality will drive me insane.
I was so happy when I got back home after dinner to a neat and tidy apartment, but then BF claimed he couldn't even tell the difference.
This is why we have separate apartments. I like the idea of us living together, but the domestic reality will drive me insane.
Men, Genie, men. My DH claims he "doesn't see dirt." Well, perhaps he doesn't, but he certainly does produce a lot of it. I keep threatening to make the dogs AND DH live in the yard. Grrrr.
Congrats Genie! There must be something in the air. I cleaned out the linen closet between the guest rooms today and found so much stuff that obviously I put there that was definitely not linen or linen related.
I've been having a lot of "what was I thinking?" moments lately. We must change so much over the years, (either that or I have multiple personalities) because I'm finding that whomever was the person who thought this or that object was a great idea is no longer living here. If I do have multiple personalities, one thing is for sure, I have a LOT of them.Ha ha ha that's funny! My husband says the same. He also claims that he doesn't see a difference after the house cleaners' three-hour work.
I am going to go through my linen closet as well since most of it is currently residing in my guest room. We are having new ducting, A/C and furnace installed over the net few days and the attic access for that portion of the house is via the walk in linen closet. I actually had gone through it 2 years ago and managed to rid it of many things, but now I really have to concentrate on sheets and towels that I I don't use. Like you, I have put many things in there that are not linen related, but I have not other place for them unless I really go through a purge in other closets. I have to get over the "what ifs" as in what if I need the spare pillow case for sheets that I no longer have? The towel give away will be difficult. I always think that there could be a flood or water issue of some sort and good old towels will come in handy,Congrats Genie! There must be something in the air. I cleaned out the linen closet between the guest rooms today and found so much stuff that obviously I put there that was definitely not linen or linen related.
I reserve the "what was I thinking?" moments mostly for wardrobe mistakes. I managed to purge most of those 2 years ago as well. I do need to accept the fact that I have shoes that I will not be wearing any time soon despite their being lovely.
Truly, GK, I could have authored most of that post myself. I feel ya.
haha! Are you a towel hoarder too? Honestly, over the years i have had good reason to hoard them! As for the shoes, I kept a few because I have a wonderful shoe stretcher and it will give the extra room I need in the older pretty shoes, but will I wear them after I do it? Truthfully I doubt it, so time to move them on out! As for those spare pillow cases, I have used them for older bags that are so old, sleeper bags had not yet been invented!
OK, so I am talking myself into keeping some of this stuff. Not good!
I just gave a huge pile of old towels to my veterinarians. They are always grateful, and when they get too many they pass them on to the animal shelter.
Tim Burton’s garden
Since things are a little slow in the café today, I will share one of my long winded stories.
On the SOTD, ABQ2ATL was talking about how it is 95 in Atlanta and when it rains, steam comes off the pavement. Here in Florida, every day in July has been 90 and the humidity has been about 88, so it feels like 100.. And it has rained every day. June was about the same and even May was hot and wet. So I have done what any sane person would do under the circumstances—totally stayed in the house except for the 20 foot stroll to DH’s car (mine is in the garage).
Well today we had a thunderstorm at about 8 am and after the rain, it was only 78 degrees! I thought I have to take advantage of this. I am going to fix my swales and plant my potato vines. Swales are very shallow ditches that direct the rain out of your yard and to the street. Our new gutters changed the water flow in our side yard, so I am putting in the equivalent of dry creek beds. Except once a day they are not dry during our daily scheduled flash flood. We are putting in stones next month. And I have one of those corny little wooden bridges sitting in the garage waiting for assembly. I figure I burned lots of calories shoveling dirt and wheelbarrowing it to new locations. And a brief downpour was a feature because it allowed me to test the effectiveness of my redesigned swales.
Then on to the potato vines. I bought four flats of red potato vine to plant on the part of the lawn between the sidewalk and the street. I bought them in May just before it became unbearable outside. May to the end of July is a long time to sit waiting to be planted. After the swale redirection, it was starting to get really hot and sunny. Yikes. But if I didn’t plant the potato vines today, it would probably be mid Oct before I would leave the house again. I decided to soldier on.
When I bought the potato vines, I tucked them under a shrub so the sun wouldn’t fry them. The daily rains kept them watered and they just sat there and waited for me. Not a one died. But when I pulled them out to plant today, most of them were missing most or all of their leaves. I realized that a mother slug had given birth in them, and all the now adolescent snails had gnawed on them like a well chewed ear of corn on the cobb. I prompted conducted a mass genocide of snails, remembering the role model my now deceased MIL set for me. She killed snails in her garden with a hammer, saying to each one “This is your last day on earth.”
This is what potato vines are supposed to look like.
This is what my poor sad chewed up potato vines look like.
The green spots are where the slugs ate through the skin of the stem.
But I liked their spunk (the vines, not the slugs). These little vines are viciously attacked and cheerfully hang in there. I am a Darwin style gardener—only the fittest, with a will to survive, make it into my garden. And I have noticed that I unconsciously test them before I plant them—like not bothering to water them for a while. Well these little potato vines were still perky. As badly as they had been chewed you would expect them to be limp and shriveled, but they weren’t, so I decided to plant them anyway. They deserve a shot at a good life.
Florida doesn’t now have dirt. It has sand. Our sand is crappier than most because it is a new house and the builder brought in lots of course construction sand. I had to dig out sand for each plant and replace it with top soil and peat moss. It was hot, tedious, and miserable, but I finished. Here is a picture of my dirty hand. It is the French manicure-noir version.
And boy does the new planting look pathetic. Really pathetic.
It looks like Tim Burton’s garden. Everyone who walks by will think I have a black thumb. Why would anyone do this on purpose? It will look a little better when I put down new mulch tomorrow. But I figure if I put out snail bait, they should be full and bushy by the next time I leave the house which should be about 10 weeks from now.
Just to prove that I don’t have a black thumb, here are some pictures of what I had blooming in my yard back in February. I just never got around to sharing them back then, so I will use them to redeem myself now.
Since things are a little slow in the café today, I will share one of my long winded stories.
On the SOTD, ABQ2ATL was talking about how it is 95 in Atlanta and when it rains, steam comes off the pavement. Here in Florida, every day in July has been 90 and the humidity has been about 88, so it feels like 100.. And it has rained every day. June was about the same and even May was hot and wet. So I have done what any sane person would do under the circumstances—totally stayed in the house except for the 20 foot stroll to DH’s car (mine is in the garage).
Well today we had a thunderstorm at about 8 am and after the rain, it was only 78 degrees! I thought I have to take advantage of this. I am going to fix my swales and plant my potato vines. Swales are very shallow ditches that direct the rain out of your yard and to the street. Our new gutters changed the water flow in our side yard, so I am putting in the equivalent of dry creek beds. Except once a day they are not dry during our daily scheduled flash flood. We are putting in stones next month. And I have one of those corny little wooden bridges sitting in the garage waiting for assembly. I figure I burned lots of calories shoveling dirt and wheelbarrowing it to new locations. And a brief downpour was a feature because it allowed me to test the effectiveness of my redesigned swales.
Then on to the potato vines. I bought four flats of red potato vine to plant on the part of the lawn between the sidewalk and the street. I bought them in May just before it became unbearable outside. May to the end of July is a long time to sit waiting to be planted. After the swale redirection, it was starting to get really hot and sunny. Yikes. But if I didn’t plant the potato vines today, it would probably be mid Oct before I would leave the house again. I decided to soldier on.
When I bought the potato vines, I tucked them under a shrub so the sun wouldn’t fry them. The daily rains kept them watered and they just sat there and waited for me. Not a one died. But when I pulled them out to plant today, most of them were missing most or all of their leaves. I realized that a mother slug had given birth in them, and all the now adolescent snails had gnawed on them like a well chewed ear of corn on the cobb. I prompted conducted a mass genocide of snails, remembering the role model my now deceased MIL set for me. She killed snails in her garden with a hammer, saying to each one “This is your last day on earth.”
This is what potato vines are supposed to look like.
This is what my poor sad chewed up potato vines look like.
The green spots are where the slugs ate through the skin of the stem.
But I liked their spunk (the vines, not the slugs). These little vines are viciously attacked and cheerfully hang in there. I am a Darwin style gardener—only the fittest, with a will to survive, make it into my garden. And I have noticed that I unconsciously test them before I plant them—like not bothering to water them for a while. Well these little potato vines were still perky. As badly as they had been chewed you would expect them to be limp and shriveled, but they weren’t, so I decided to plant them anyway. They deserve a shot at a good life.
Florida doesn’t now have dirt. It has sand. Our sand is crappier than most because it is a new house and the builder brought in lots of course construction sand. I had to dig out sand for each plant and replace it with top soil and peat moss. It was hot, tedious, and miserable, but I finished. Here is a picture of my dirty hand. It is the French manicure-noir version.
And boy does the new planting look pathetic. Really pathetic.
It looks like Tim Burton’s garden. Everyone who walks by will think I have a black thumb. Why would anyone do this on purpose? It will look a little better when I put down new mulch tomorrow. But I figure if I put out snail bait, they should be full and bushy by the next time I leave the house which should be about 10 weeks from now.
Just to prove that I don’t have a black thumb, here are some pictures of what I had blooming in my yard back in February. I just never got around to sharing them back then, so I will use them to redeem myself now.
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Ohh, I can so relate!
I live in the subtropics in Australia, so I understand rain, humidity and flash flooding.
And pests....
Here the local brushtail possums (Trichosurus vulpecula) are ravenous and my potted plants have to be kept inside cages that look like mini aviaries.
Last week, I asked DH to move one of the cages, which he obediently did, but I failed to notice that he had left the plants outside the cage instead of putting them back in. Sigh. He is very much a 7/8ths of the job, type of man.
Here are what the geraniums in the small cage, which were not left unprotected, look like...
Here is what happened to the plants that were left out of the other cage OVERNIGHT!
Yes, those twigs represent two geraniums, one rose, and a kaffir lime tree.
I'm hoping that they will recover.
It's days like these that I remember how much I used to love my possum fur cushion as a child before the brushtails become a protected species!
I live in the subtropics in Australia, so I understand rain, humidity and flash flooding.
And pests....
Here the local brushtail possums (Trichosurus vulpecula) are ravenous and my potted plants have to be kept inside cages that look like mini aviaries.
Last week, I asked DH to move one of the cages, which he obediently did, but I failed to notice that he had left the plants outside the cage instead of putting them back in. Sigh. He is very much a 7/8ths of the job, type of man.
Here are what the geraniums in the small cage, which were not left unprotected, look like...
Here is what happened to the plants that were left out of the other cage OVERNIGHT!
Yes, those twigs represent two geraniums, one rose, and a kaffir lime tree.
I'm hoping that they will recover.It's days like these that I remember how much I used to love my possum fur cushion as a child before the brushtails become a protected species!
Oh Cordie. You are a hearty soul...Mind and body...to do that. Show us a photo after they start to grow please. I'm ashamed that I haven't worked in my garden at all because it's too warm- in the 80s.
No wonder my dear mil loves Florida. She's from Australia and says it feels like home.
No wonder my dear mil loves Florida. She's from Australia and says it feels like home.
