Dear Fred,
Thank you so much for sharing your butt with us. We really enjoyed it as sandwiches last Sunday before going to see Spiderman. It was so tasty and delicious, there was no need for popcorn during the movie.
We especially appreciated your packing up some of your smokey butt for us to enjoy throughout the week. We had lovely Fred's butt wraps, Fred's butt side with succotash, and finally, today, Fred's butt salad. Yummy!
Your butt was so tender and juicy. It never dried out, even after multiple reheating. We found it to be delightful, because we tried to purchase Willy's butt today, but it was dry and tasteless.
So, again, thank you for sharing your wonderful butt. Anytime you are willing to turn the other cheek, we will be delighted to partake once again!
Sincerely,
Linda
P.S. Please forgive my gratuitous use of low humor, puns and poor taste. I was cracking up as I wrote it. Alex added the "juicy" part, but in a much grosser context. Kristen suggested we somehow incorporate "gassy", but I couldn't figure that out. I love your kids!!!!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Haiku
One of my favorite gardening tools is the haiku. It looks like a tiny hoe, only more slanted and very sharp. It is great for weeding and digging small holes. Of course, every time I use the haiku, I think about haiku poetry, and the allure of its extreme structure of syllables (5-7-5).
The haiku was one of my favorite writing tools in corporate America, because it forced the writer to distill their thoughts to the very essence of the idea they were trying to convey. Think about it: you have to write a training manual about a new piece of equipment or a new pricing structure. Rather than starting with a huge outline or a bunch of objectives, use the haiku to identify the essence of the product or plan, then go from there. Yes, everyone thought I was crazy, but it really helped new writers get right to the point every time.
Back to gardening. Yesterday was another gardening day. We were out in the back bed again, which we didn't quite finish last week. The focus was the cursed devil's grass in the Japanese irises, yet again. My 14 year old niece was looking for some cash, so we paid her to help with the weeding.
As we were getting all ready to garden (applying bug spray, getting gloves, etc.) I asked her to choose her weapon. Her options were: the cobra or the haiku. Since she and I had gone through a big haiku period a couple of years back, she was delighted to find a tool with the name of her favorite kind of poetry! Armed and ready, we went to face the weeds.
Kristen has not been following my blog, so she was unaware of the more appropriate name for Bermuda grass: devil's grass. Nor has she had much experience pulling the annoying stuff out from other plants, so this was a banner day for her. We spent the first few minutes getting her trained in the use of the tool and the rudiments of weeding. After just a few minutes she had the hang of things. Just a few minutes later, she was saying things like, "Curse you, devil's grass!". Did I mention how much alike we are??
For the two hours as we worked on eradicating the weeds (devil's grass, crab grass, briars, tiny trees, violets, and unidentified plants), Kristen learned the joys of gardening with a haiku. The outcome of our time together was a clean bed (she did a really good job) and a haiku that fits beautifully within this blog.
Gardening Haiku, by Kristen
These absurd weed things
Are giving me a headache.
I wish they'd all die.
The haiku was one of my favorite writing tools in corporate America, because it forced the writer to distill their thoughts to the very essence of the idea they were trying to convey. Think about it: you have to write a training manual about a new piece of equipment or a new pricing structure. Rather than starting with a huge outline or a bunch of objectives, use the haiku to identify the essence of the product or plan, then go from there. Yes, everyone thought I was crazy, but it really helped new writers get right to the point every time.
Back to gardening. Yesterday was another gardening day. We were out in the back bed again, which we didn't quite finish last week. The focus was the cursed devil's grass in the Japanese irises, yet again. My 14 year old niece was looking for some cash, so we paid her to help with the weeding.
As we were getting all ready to garden (applying bug spray, getting gloves, etc.) I asked her to choose her weapon. Her options were: the cobra or the haiku. Since she and I had gone through a big haiku period a couple of years back, she was delighted to find a tool with the name of her favorite kind of poetry! Armed and ready, we went to face the weeds.
Kristen has not been following my blog, so she was unaware of the more appropriate name for Bermuda grass: devil's grass. Nor has she had much experience pulling the annoying stuff out from other plants, so this was a banner day for her. We spent the first few minutes getting her trained in the use of the tool and the rudiments of weeding. After just a few minutes she had the hang of things. Just a few minutes later, she was saying things like, "Curse you, devil's grass!". Did I mention how much alike we are??
For the two hours as we worked on eradicating the weeds (devil's grass, crab grass, briars, tiny trees, violets, and unidentified plants), Kristen learned the joys of gardening with a haiku. The outcome of our time together was a clean bed (she did a really good job) and a haiku that fits beautifully within this blog.
Gardening Haiku, by Kristen
These absurd weed things
Are giving me a headache.
I wish they'd all die.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
No Whining Zone
Whenever my niece and nephew have visited us over the last 14 years, Brian and I have instituted a 'no whining' zone. This started with just our house, then eventually grew to cover the entire state. As a result, Alex and Kristen have no tolerance for any whining performed by Brian or myself.
Which brings me to a conversation I had with them this afternoon. I'm not entirely sure how it started, but the two of them accused me of being a whiner.
"I hate gardening?", they said. "Sure sounds like whining to us".
"Have you read it?", I asked.
When they responded in the negative, I suggested they not talk about something of which they know nothing. They, of course, said they could talk all they wanted, since the title in itself was whiney. Can you believe it? Those darned kids!
So, Kristen and Alex... if you ever deign to read this, or any other article in my blog... know that ranting is very different from (although somewhat related to) whining, and that if it is funny, well, it is less irritating than standard whining. So just get over it!
Which brings me to a conversation I had with them this afternoon. I'm not entirely sure how it started, but the two of them accused me of being a whiner.
"I hate gardening?", they said. "Sure sounds like whining to us".
"Have you read it?", I asked.
When they responded in the negative, I suggested they not talk about something of which they know nothing. They, of course, said they could talk all they wanted, since the title in itself was whiney. Can you believe it? Those darned kids!
So, Kristen and Alex... if you ever deign to read this, or any other article in my blog... know that ranting is very different from (although somewhat related to) whining, and that if it is funny, well, it is less irritating than standard whining. So just get over it!
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
The Glove of Death, part 2
As you'll no doubt remember from "The Glove of Death, part 1", that we used a glove soaked in Roundup to try to kill the devil's grass which was embedded in the phlox in one of our front beds. After the first application, we waited a few days, then reapplied. Mom got impatient, wanting to pull that grass immediately because it was so unsightly. However, we encouraged her to wait (and to not work in the poisoned grass) until the poison had a chance to work its evil magic.
Finally, after eons of waiting (I don't know, maybe 6 or 7 days?) it was time! The devil's grass flew yellow above the phlox and it looked dead to us. So yesterday we approached the devil and forced him out of our phlox! Do I hear Hallelujah? Sorry, I got a little excited there.
We worked for about an hour, pulling the grass. Turns out it was only mostly dead (like Wesley in The Princess Bride). Although the tops were dead, the lower leaves were still a happy green and the roots held tight. I'm not even sure how to keep score on this one. One - Love, perhaps? We know the poison was working up top, but the devil held tight down below. Hang on, I feel a sermon coming on... ok, it passed. Whew.
So, we're going to wait and see. We're pretty sure the grass will grow again and when it does, we'll have the Glove of Death ready to go. It may take a few rounds, but I'm pretty sure we can send that devil's grass back to hell, where it came from.
Note: I checked the date of the first Glove of Death blog and found out that 12 days passed from the first application to the pulling of the grass. Perhaps next time we wait 20 days?
Finally, after eons of waiting (I don't know, maybe 6 or 7 days?) it was time! The devil's grass flew yellow above the phlox and it looked dead to us. So yesterday we approached the devil and forced him out of our phlox! Do I hear Hallelujah? Sorry, I got a little excited there.
We worked for about an hour, pulling the grass. Turns out it was only mostly dead (like Wesley in The Princess Bride). Although the tops were dead, the lower leaves were still a happy green and the roots held tight. I'm not even sure how to keep score on this one. One - Love, perhaps? We know the poison was working up top, but the devil held tight down below. Hang on, I feel a sermon coming on... ok, it passed. Whew.
So, we're going to wait and see. We're pretty sure the grass will grow again and when it does, we'll have the Glove of Death ready to go. It may take a few rounds, but I'm pretty sure we can send that devil's grass back to hell, where it came from.
Note: I checked the date of the first Glove of Death blog and found out that 12 days passed from the first application to the pulling of the grass. Perhaps next time we wait 20 days?
Weeding Derby
It rained last night and was overcast today, making the perfect conditions for weeding the back bed. This bed is in direct sunlight most of the time, so has not been worked for over a month because of the very high temperatures. As expected, it was overrun with violets, crab grass, devil's grass and a few briars. It took all three of us working together to have the courage to face and destroy the weeds.
Since we were all working together, it was a chattier session than most. The devil's grass was interwoven with the Japanese irises and the day lilies. While cleaning out the dead leaves from those plants, we'd accidentally grab the Bermuda and come away with a six foot strand of grass along with the dead leaves we were aiming for. We started comparing them to see who pulled the longest. Then Brian pulled a violet that was 10 - 12 inches across and I got a stand of crab grass that was about 24 inches across, all in one piece, roots included. All of this led to a discussion of a weeding derby.
A weeding derby would work like a fishing derby, except withyard work. There would be prizes for the longest weed, the biggest weed, the weeds pulled with the best root structure, the most buckets of weeds, the best weeding of a square foot section, etc. The beauty of it is that you could charge participants a fee to enter, then have them weed your yard for you! There are even quality control measures in place (prizes) to ensure the work is done well. How very Tom Sawyer. This is yard work I could get behind: someone else pay me for the pleasure and the glory of weeding my yard? You bet. Sign me up! Or better yet, I'll sign others up!
Unfortunately, it was just the three of us winning the prizes today. Mom won "best weeding in a square foot section", Brian won "longest weed" and "weeds puled with the best root structure", and I won "biggest weed" and "most buckets pulled". Sigh. Maybe next time.
Since we were all working together, it was a chattier session than most. The devil's grass was interwoven with the Japanese irises and the day lilies. While cleaning out the dead leaves from those plants, we'd accidentally grab the Bermuda and come away with a six foot strand of grass along with the dead leaves we were aiming for. We started comparing them to see who pulled the longest. Then Brian pulled a violet that was 10 - 12 inches across and I got a stand of crab grass that was about 24 inches across, all in one piece, roots included. All of this led to a discussion of a weeding derby.
A weeding derby would work like a fishing derby, except withyard work. There would be prizes for the longest weed, the biggest weed, the weeds pulled with the best root structure, the most buckets of weeds, the best weeding of a square foot section, etc. The beauty of it is that you could charge participants a fee to enter, then have them weed your yard for you! There are even quality control measures in place (prizes) to ensure the work is done well. How very Tom Sawyer. This is yard work I could get behind: someone else pay me for the pleasure and the glory of weeding my yard? You bet. Sign me up! Or better yet, I'll sign others up!
Unfortunately, it was just the three of us winning the prizes today. Mom won "best weeding in a square foot section", Brian won "longest weed" and "weeds puled with the best root structure", and I won "biggest weed" and "most buckets pulled". Sigh. Maybe next time.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Pokey Things
I hate pokey things in the yard: briars, thorns, cacti... you name it. If they are pokey, they will poke me. The sad thing is that I know they will poke me and hurt, but invariably, I'll forget about the pain from last time and get poked again.
It happened yesterday. Last fall, we carefully pulled down a cactus near the back of our house, after I got a butt full of tiny, invisible needles while bending over to get water from the spigot. For some reason, this particular cactus has big, dark, visible needles, then has evil, fishing line-looking needles, just for fun. I managed to miss the big needles, but forgot about the killer invisible ones. Now I have three in my right hand: two in my palm and one on my middle finger. Ow. You'd think after having a bunch in my butt last summer I'd remember. Sorry to burst anyone's bubble that might have thought of me as brighter than this.
In our other homes in WA and OH, we managed to eradicate the pokey plants. We chopped down bayberry, with its giant thorns... had someone else remove a giant holly tree (turned out it came with another kind of pokey thing: wasps)... and pulled blackberry vines until we were blue in the face. No pokey things have ever prospered in our yards. Until now.
Georgia is home to many pokey plants. We have cacti, yucca, some pokey trees that I don't know the name of but they look like little palm trees, juniper bushes and briars. Of these, the only ones that weren't planned are the briars. Mom actually planted the others. Can you believe it?? Someone would purposefully plant things in the yard that hurt to garden. Sure, they are pretty in a Southwest sort of way, but oh the pain. Of course, Mom loves to garden, so perhaps garden love somehow negates the pain. Although, she was on board with getting rid of the giant cactus, since it bit her, too.
Ah well. If the heat keeps up, the only living plants remaining will be the pokey ones. And then, where will we be?!
It happened yesterday. Last fall, we carefully pulled down a cactus near the back of our house, after I got a butt full of tiny, invisible needles while bending over to get water from the spigot. For some reason, this particular cactus has big, dark, visible needles, then has evil, fishing line-looking needles, just for fun. I managed to miss the big needles, but forgot about the killer invisible ones. Now I have three in my right hand: two in my palm and one on my middle finger. Ow. You'd think after having a bunch in my butt last summer I'd remember. Sorry to burst anyone's bubble that might have thought of me as brighter than this.
In our other homes in WA and OH, we managed to eradicate the pokey plants. We chopped down bayberry, with its giant thorns... had someone else remove a giant holly tree (turned out it came with another kind of pokey thing: wasps)... and pulled blackberry vines until we were blue in the face. No pokey things have ever prospered in our yards. Until now.
Georgia is home to many pokey plants. We have cacti, yucca, some pokey trees that I don't know the name of but they look like little palm trees, juniper bushes and briars. Of these, the only ones that weren't planned are the briars. Mom actually planted the others. Can you believe it?? Someone would purposefully plant things in the yard that hurt to garden. Sure, they are pretty in a Southwest sort of way, but oh the pain. Of course, Mom loves to garden, so perhaps garden love somehow negates the pain. Although, she was on board with getting rid of the giant cactus, since it bit her, too.
Ah well. If the heat keeps up, the only living plants remaining will be the pokey ones. And then, where will we be?!
Weeds and Rain
Weeds and rain are the two governing factors for gardening at our house. With weeds, one of us (usually Mom or me) will finally go over the edge because of some weed or other desecrating our yard or beds. Rain, on the other hand, almost never happens, so when it does, we all jump and dance for joy... then spend the next morning weeding the inevitable weeds that shoot up after it rains.
Yesterday, I finally got irritated at all of the grass (read weeds) growing in the crack between the gutter and the street. It is by far the lushest grass on the entire property, even if it is mostly crab grass, with a bit of clover thrown in for luck. It turned out to be kind of fun to pull out, since the roots are in such a tiny place and the foliage takes up quite a bit of room. Just scrape the leaves off the road, twist and pull (really hard) and up come the roots. This kind of gardening is pretty gratifying because it immediately looks better. Of course, there are still buckets of sweat, but at least you can tell you did something when you're done.
Any weeding is easier when the ground is moist... which it almost never is here because it almost never rains. The last rain we had was when Brian and I took a vacation to North Georgia. We had almost three days of rain, but by the time we were home from vacation, the ground had dried up. And that was three weeks ago... three weeks of 90-100+ temperatures. Since then, we cheer whenever we see clouds and get sad with blue skies.
Today, it rained!!! A full hour of rain to help water the plants and soften the earth. Hooray! Of course, that means that tomorrow is a weeding day. Sigh. Weeds and rain.
Note: This post was written two days before it was posted. I got sleepy and didn't finish the last line.
Yesterday, I finally got irritated at all of the grass (read weeds) growing in the crack between the gutter and the street. It is by far the lushest grass on the entire property, even if it is mostly crab grass, with a bit of clover thrown in for luck. It turned out to be kind of fun to pull out, since the roots are in such a tiny place and the foliage takes up quite a bit of room. Just scrape the leaves off the road, twist and pull (really hard) and up come the roots. This kind of gardening is pretty gratifying because it immediately looks better. Of course, there are still buckets of sweat, but at least you can tell you did something when you're done.
Any weeding is easier when the ground is moist... which it almost never is here because it almost never rains. The last rain we had was when Brian and I took a vacation to North Georgia. We had almost three days of rain, but by the time we were home from vacation, the ground had dried up. And that was three weeks ago... three weeks of 90-100+ temperatures. Since then, we cheer whenever we see clouds and get sad with blue skies.
Today, it rained!!! A full hour of rain to help water the plants and soften the earth. Hooray! Of course, that means that tomorrow is a weeding day. Sigh. Weeds and rain.
Note: This post was written two days before it was posted. I got sleepy and didn't finish the last line.
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