Hitchhiker!

This columbine hitched a ride with another plant.

Or…

She just blew in. A world traveler.

While I grew columbine several years ago, I haven’t seen a plant in my garden in an age. Seeds blow in on the wind and/or get pooped out by animals. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Long story short, it is one of my faves. Another flower that feels old-fashioned and forever.

So…

G-Man and I were sitting in the wicker on the front patio last night enjoying the pedestrian traffic, watching the birds flit through the frontscape, and admiring the sky in all its blue and white glory.

He: I love when the sky looks like that. That blue with the streaks of cloud running through it.

Me: Yes, it looks all marbleized. Like a good marble countertop.

Me: And then you’ve got those entrails randomly slicing through the sky.

He: … [crickets] …

He: You mean contrails?

The end.

ZOMG, yes. I do know my contrails from my entrails. Can you imagine the sky streaked with entrails? Slip of the brain.

Where did that come from?

Hahahahaha. Know your entrails, peeps.

And Monday is in the house.

Give it your best shot.

Elen