What a boring slow weekend I had. Sometimes you need some of those. I certainly would rather have a weekend like that than a weekend where every minute is jam packed with time-consumers. It’s nice to have downtime, but it makes for a hard diary entry.
I squirted some facial cleanser in my eye yesterday morning. It really burned. All day, I had a red ring around the bottom of my eye. It looked like I’d been punched.
(sigh)
Yep. A hard diary entry.
Esteban and I have been noticing some strange weed formation in the front of our house. There’s a little area between the house and the front walk, filled with bushes. In the bare spot in front of the bushes, we have tulips in the spring and weeds in the fall. I normally stick a planter there, but I didn’t feel like it this year, thus weeds. Last year, we had these attractive daisy type weeds, so I didn’t do anything about them. This year, we have these strange long pieces of grass. Last week, we noticed that they were some honking huge type of grass, not your normal weedy grass type thing.
For one thing, the alien grass seems to be attracting ants. The ants like to go down inside the stalk of the grass. You look down the stalks and it is just black with ants. Gross. Esteban figures that this, if nothing else, is reason enough to keep the alien grass. After all, it’s keeping the ants off our lawn. ‘And closer to the house!’ I am quick to point out.
Last week, Esteban jokingly suggested that it’s not grass, perhaps it’s corn.
After our torrential rains this weekend, the alien grass has grown another eight inches. ‘I think it IS corn!’ Esteban decided yesterday. ‘That’s ridiculous!’ I gasped. ‘How would we get corn in our bushes?’ Esteban then pointed out that I hang a bird feeder directly above that spot in winter. ‘Oh yeah’. ‘I said thoughtfully, which then brought a bout of chiding ‘DUH!’ and other such musings from Esteban. For the record, if it were a giant thistle or sunflower, I would have made the connection right away.
I’m kinda bummed that the corn is not making an appearance until now. There’s no way we’d get any kind of crop this late in the season. I mean, it would be kind of cool to have a bunch of corn growing in front of our house. Plus, then I could call myself Farmer Weetabix. That would be worth it all on its own.
Maybe if I were a farmer, Esteban would let me get a sheep. Or some chickens.
I really want a little sheep.
Yesterday was Mafia Grandma’s birthday. I thoughtfully called her and wished her ‘Happy Birthday’. Then I figured that Mo hadn’t remembered, so I called her to remind her.
‘Hi, it’s Grandma’s birthday today. Don’t forget to call her.’
‘Oh, well you had to call me at 8:00 at night? You couldn’t have given me a little more warning?’
‘Um’.’
‘I mean, I’m putting Abby to bed. M.G.’s probably not even up anymore.’
Yep, Mo, that’s right. It was totally in my evil plan for you to forget to call M.G. on her birthday and then not call you until it was inconvenient for you to do anything about it.
‘She is up, I just got off the phone with her.’
Then she called me a ‘Dork’.
You’re welcome, Mo.
Oh, remember the whole Bitch thing? Being upset about that, last week I went looking for rebuttals.
I asked Mo if she knew I was a bitch.
She said, ‘Of course I know.’
I kicked her in the butt.
‘Bitch!’ She replied.
Maybe she wasn’t the right person to ask.
Last night, somehow this site got hit from The Naked News website. I’m just scratching my head on that one. I can’t even find a link to my site on it.
Aimee has a good question on the message boards. We’d both like your opinion.
