Dearest Ashley,
You have been good to me these many years, and I appreciate your patience, but this shit has to stop.
OK, so you like to spend a couple of hours bent over digging in the dirt. I understand. But two days in a row is excessive. I was mildly annoyed by this, but my neighbors, the Hamstrings really got up-in-arms over the whole business and I had to hear about it.
Then today you pulled that stunt with your damn dog. Do you really think bringing her trail running after digging for two and a half hours was necessary? DO YOU?! I have never known such pain in my life. I hate you, your mother, your dog, your friends, your car, and everything you stand for. May you rot in hell, infidel. You'll hear from me again in the morning.
Love,
Your Ass
Filed under: amusement
Anyone who is familiar with our struggle with the neighbors may skip this paragraph. Keep reading for a little back story. Jaz and I have these neighbors. They're Hispanic and, I am assuming, Mexican. They like to dig up their old lawn and plant a new one every 3 weeks or so. Literally. They dug up all the old grass, surrounded their yard with a brick border, planted a ridiculous amount of flowers, and put down new grass. Then they added more flowers. Then they added a (awful) fountain. Then they added MORE flowers. Today they added some pinwheel looking things that spin when the wind blows. Their Christmas lights never came down, and there's crap hanging off of every inch of overhang. Its horrendous. So I retaliated with a pair of lawn flamingoes peeking over the brick border and flying the Jolly Roger from our porch.
I started digging today. I'm extending the garden and going organic. The composting is going well; the dilute vinegar is working; I have high hopes that this will actually work. I killed off another plant, but two of them are spreading like crabs in a whorehouse and I transplanted some of the babies today (plants, not crabs!). I got the area by the rose bush prepped for adding compost/dry molasses/plants/mulch. I still need to dig up a couple small spots, but i got most of the muscley stuff out of the way. I re-reburied the soaker hose, and dug up the bulbs from the blue iris/lily things, too.
As I was out there on my hands and knees separating out weeds from topsoil, one of the neighbors came out of the biweekly backyard party to say hi. He waved, said hello, and OFFERED ME A BEER. Holy balls! The last spoken words I heard from any of them was “Oh my god” when we put up the Jolly Roger. They even said it in English to assure that we knew what they were saying.
Jesus had it all wrong. Michael Jackson had it all wrong. I have solved race relation issues, and the international language isn't love or choreographed dance. Its lawnscaping. Now I shall turn into a panther and be crucified. Ay, dios mio!
Filed under: amusement
“A delicate touch dedicated to you.”
Keyboard or sex toy? You decide.
(No, nerd, they cannot be one and the same. Perv.)
Filed under: self indulgence
Life's been a little lather-rinse-repeat lately. I've been going bonkers over being locked into a routine, and I'm starting to wonder if this particular path is wrong for me or if I just need a little break.
Thankfully, I have a couple of vacations lined up. One real (going to visit family and friends in CT for 12 glorious days in August) and one short (upcoming weekend in Florida to visit JC, whom I haven't seen since 2001).
I'm totally stoked to have a temporary escape from my life. WOOO SUMMER!
