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My Profile
Fairytales for a Practical Princess - 2008-11-30
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1:23 a.m. - 2003-07-09
*Preface: I know, I know. I've been a total slug and have not sent the snail mail, e-mail, and g-book comments I've been needing to for weeks now. I'm thinking of changing my handle to LA the Slug or perhaps LA , Queen of the Bad Friends. My apologies. I made my first harvest today. A jalapeno pepper. It’s a very nice pepper. I only need to get about 57 more from that plant before it’s paid for itself. I have discovered that unless you grow in vast quantities like my dearest Life-My-Way does, that growing your own is NOT cost effective. Some might argue that the freshness and knowing what (if any) pesticides were used makes a big difference. But since I’m growing jalapenos and tomatoes, neither of which I eat, the freshness thing is moot. Plus Mike says that a life spent on military bases exposed him to far worse chemical dangers than a little Bug-B-Gone. In one case the military housing they lived in at one post had been built over top of old nuke storage bunkers. He said that street lights weren’t necessary, the whole block glowed in the dark. Next year I may try growing stuff from seed. Seed packets are ridiculously cheap and the one or two plants I may net from each packet will serve my gardening needs quite nicely. I have neither the skill nor the patience to farm on any kind of scale. So a big shout out to Life and the rest of you talented hardworking folk who are able to go out to the backyard and pick yourselves some dinner. I saw a bear today. It’s late in the season for bear spotting. We usually see them in the spring. The yearling cubs are bounced from their dens as their younger siblings need mom’s attention when they all wake up from their winter naps. The yearlings wander into populated areas hunting for food. Dumpsters are a bear’s idea of a smorgasbord and it’s not unusual to see a furry bear rump sticking out of a garbage bin while the front end snorfles up the goodies inside. Today’s bear however was a fully grown male. While not grizzlies or Kodiaks, the black bears around here can get some serious size and this one was no exception. Mr. Bear was just ambling down the road then he disappeared into the trees. Pretty cool. The coyotes are back too. I sat out last night howling with them until the mosquitoes drove me inside. I’m going to miss the coyotes when we move to the new house. I asked Mr. Next-Door if there were coyotes around the neighborhood. He flinched and said, “Hell no! Thank God.” I dunno, I’d rather coyotes than the teenagers with quads who roar down along the railroad tracks on weekend afternoons. But I guess I’m in the minority on this. I mentioned that we had coyotes to my MIL and she frothed and swore. The in-laws have some property out in the boonies and when they go there to brush-hog and whatnot, the coyotes are a bigger danger to the dogs than the rattlesnakes. Personally I think she’s overstating the case a bit. That pack of canines they have look like hairy Volkswagens with fangs. They are huge and drooly and have nary a brain among them. You know that Bugs Bunny cartoon where that goofy pack of hunting dogs chase him around? My MIL’s dogs are like that, only bigger. And a couple of them are really mean too. When the grandkids visit they have to stay inside all the time. Going out in the yard just might get the kids killed. Frankly, I think it’s the coyotes which have to watch out for the dogs. But you know how dog moms are. In their mind’s eye that 125lb saber-toothed destructicon on 4 legs is their widdle pwecious puppy and is forever, even when she’s out there shoveling up intestines for the billionth time because puppy-wuppy eviscerated yet another feline (or UPS guy). Speaking of dog sizes I admitted to Mike that I like those ratty little Benji dogs. He scoffed and said there was no way we were getting a dog the cats could knock over. The idea of a grown dog small enough to ride in the dump bed of Wolf’s Tonka truck skeezed him out. I’m not into frou-frou dogs like Yorkies and Pomeranians, I just like those raggedy mutt dogs. It’s getting harder and harder to find tufty scraggly mutts though. Almost every dog at the pound is some kind of pitbull mix. I’d sooner get Wolf a cobra to play with than some psycho dog which will rip the face off your head just because it’s having a bad day. (Though since the peri-menopause has kicked it into high gear, I often feel like doing a little face ripping myself. Damn these hormones! I am so coming back as a guy in my next life.) Well, enough rambling. Time for me to hit the sack. Gotta have the kid spiffed up and all his junk packed and out to the bus in a mere 6 hours from now. Good night. ~LA
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