I Will Survive!

When you can’t stand another minute of Twitter, and you just have to look away…

…look this way.

This is one of those little mini roses that you see in the grocery store come early spring February. And you’re desperate. Desperate for spring. So you buy it.

I bought it two years ago and set it out in a pot for the summer. Brought it in. Set it out in a pot for the summer. There was a pretty hefty frost before I brought it in late fall. Very late fall. Bordering on winter. What can I say? I didn’t notice much while I was up on the paint ladder.

One morning, sipping my decaffeine, stylin’ in my paint clothes, I looked out the kitchen patio and saw this pot of dead leaves and twigs. And I was so depressed on its behalf, that I slid open the doors, grabbed it by the pot, and flung it into the kitchen. It sat under a garden table for weeks until I noticed all these green leaves and stems shooting through the metal mesh of the table.

I will survive! was her song and mantra. So I took her up to my woman cave over the garage and set her in the window. She has six buds in various stages of bloom. I think she might have forgiven me.

You get a gratuitous shot of my feet. They look like clown feet. It must be the dark camo. Size 7.5. I swears!

True Confessions ~

We were in the grocery store today getting some extras just in case the pending winter storm actually becomes a winter storm. There were tulips as far as the eye could see. Okay. At the checkout counter.

There were tuuulips. G-man wanted them. Wanted them in the worst way. But I said no to tulips. In fact, I didn’t even call for a vote.

They would have clashed with my poinsettia.

The end.

Here be Friday.

Let’s get outta here.

You know what to do. Meet you in the bar in 3…2…1…

Elen