Friday, January 07, 2005
Can you see me waving?
You...yes, you. I'm waving a hearty "hellooooo" to you from USDA Hardiness Zone 7!
Sure, it was snowing two weekends ago. And today it's only like 30 degrees F. But this weekend, it's going to be 60 degrees. That means I have to phrekin jazz myself up about redoing The Yarden.
The gay man across the street may have the most superfly trees on the block, but when it comes to my Yarden compared to his, he comes across heterosexual. (In all fairness, he saved his mighty gardening talents to grow tiny, cherry tomatoes which dangle between the slats of his white picket fence, holding up his rosebushes next to his flowerbed filled with pink and yellow blooming things that I can't pronounce really, directly across the patio from his hot tub. I don't have to tell you he has outdoor speakers--white to match the trim on his house that I can see directly into and halfway up the stairs when it's dark outside, but that's another story.*)
The Yarden suffered some minor damage to the Canna plants (not to be confused with cannabis plants, dooooood) which in the end is a o k with me since all my canna plants just turned into frikklin Grasshopper and Wasp Motels. I can't handle bugs unless they are *cute harmless insects* like butterflies, caterpillars, and Hugh Grant.
For some other reason besides the bugs, the canna consistently annoyed Ron. I don't know if it was the height, or that they grow all over the place in no time, or maybe it was the hurtful names they yelled at him as he walked by. Whatever happened, this year I'll plant the mini versions and hope they grow to a normal proportion.
For any guys reading this far into the post, warning: you might be gay. If so: let's be friends! If you are a guy still reading and not gay, you are most certainly an enigma and therefore must be a friend of mine already.
So this weekend, I'm planning on getting extra-domestic and figuring what plant goes where, and I'm trying a new dog cookie recipe that I hope Otis will like. I know, I know: Dogs eat their own barf and lick their own unmentionables. But honestly, he does have a very selective taste. He knows how to eat from a fork, and currently he's working on learning a spoon.
Anyway, what's with this newfound and slightly-irritating domestication? Well, beats me. Maybe it was all that mundane talk about garbage cans.** It could be because I finally bought a new bridesmaid's dress (SquEEeEEeEEeeeeeeeaLLL!)for Katherine's wedding. Possible, but not probable.
I'll betcha it's most likely because I started reading this book, and I feel like a new female unit serial number 282394_FHCU_basicwhite from Zone 7.
Basically, I don't feel so alone anymore. I am coming to terms with myself. And to terms with the people in my house always messin' up my mad grip. This will probably surprise no one when I admit it. I can't deny it any longer and actually, I think this is probably the latest trend, but that's not why I'm coming out with it. It's basically so I can drive out the jive and unpack the love:
"Hello, everyone... my name is Bethany...and I am... a closet homemaker."
You thought I was going to say "alcoholic" didn't you? Hell no. I'll never come clean on that one. Even though I made alcohol in my closet this year. Hmmm.
Not a homemaker like Betty Crocker. Not Hazel the wacky housekeeper like apparently every living thing at my house thinks I am, but a person who understands the philosophy behind keeping the place you live, eat, and sleep in order to produce total tranquility and harmony, man. Oh and to prevent nasty crap like e.coli from growing in your kitchen sink. You know, useful stuff.
(Ok, I'll admit to being a wino that hugs too much and breaks wine glasses, but that's just the spazz coming out in me. Anyway...)
Ok, so that's enough of my Suzy Sunshine. I'm getting on my own nerves. I hope you have a grande weekende and may the Force of Zone 7 be with you.
To anyone who read this far, I thank you, and will bake you cookies if you want.***
*Ooo. That even creeped me out when I read it.
** WHICH BY THE WAY I FINALLY MUTHER FLIPPIN' GOT! Pyrotechnics show at my house tonight at 8:00pm. You're invited for closet wine, ice cream cake, and dog cookies.
***See? Behold the upside to the new, exposed me: homemade frikkin treats for everyone.