BB Guns Or Stupid Archery

Do not make eye contact with the demon.

A couple of years ago, Trout gave me a homeless tomatillo plant. It was a tiny, pitiful thing. I planted it in the corner of the garden and nothing much happened for months. Suddenly one day the little thing started growing madly and my daily attempts to support branches couldn’t keep up. This went on until months after I thought for sure the monster would stop growing or I would lose my mind. I mean, holy crap! That is a picture of one plant, no doubt plotting evil. I couldn’t wait to pick the tomatillos and chop it down.

Only reasonably daunted, I planted tomatillo seeds, which sprouted pitifully. The little things do not appear committed to this growing business, but I am not fooled. My friend Scout (no relation) reminded me that growing the monsters upside down might save me months of caging, staking, re-staking, tying, re-tying, staking, tying, re-staking, re-tying. Today, Pete and I transplanted and hung them up. And now we wait.

Through Our Anecdotic Revue

Sweet Kali, why why why?

President Obama this week:

Americans can help by continuing to visit the communities and beaches of the Gulf Coast. I was talking to the governors just a couple of days ago, and they wanted me to remind everybody that except for three beaches in Louisiana, all of the Gulf’s beaches are open. They are safe and they are clean.

Christ on a cracker, everyone knows what happens when an authority figure says The beaches are safe! it’s time to make a break for the mountains: Greek tragedy-grade comeuppance is on its way. Canst thou catch Leviathan or a scriptwriter with a hook?

Things That They Say Honor Bright

This volcano is raining ash on my Guatemalan cousins.  My cousin says ash is raining on houses and cars in Guatemala. The photographs of the eruption are elegant compositions depicting a frightening local reality. This one is my favorite. It reminds me of the reasons my great-grandparents left Sicily: Nothing there but rocks, they said. Of course, it wasn’t true. Sicily, like Guatemala, is by all accounts a lush, lovely place.

Rumor has it the reporter who was killed was standing next to the lava like this guy.

On the other hand, sometimes you could take a hint and a powder. My cousin, a tender hearted young mommy with bright, talented children, who speaks four languages and has traveled extensively, curtly remarked that reporters are supposed to be close to the story, but really. I was impressed with her pragmatism, seeing as how I have an irrational fear of lava that’s looking less and less irrational as Guatemalan children go missing. Perhaps my cousins would like to sojourn in torpid New Jersey.

Look Amid the Garbage And the Flowers

Last night, I saw about half an hour of this, though not the whole thing, because I saw a shiny object and chased it and I don’t drink bottled water.

This morning, I looked at the ancient plastic cups from which I drink water-cooler-water coffee and water-cooler water and realized I drink so much bottled water out of plastic my innards are probably a Superfund site. Tonight, I washed out old ceramic mugs for coffee and a quart Ball Jar to minimize trips to the water fountain.

No Rhymes For Me

It's a particularly effective liquor store.

Drusy’s eye is swollen today, poor darling. I’m hoping it’s just an allergy, but each time I look at her I worry. Meanwhile, Topaz has that same bemused expression on her face Larry, the little black cat no longer bent on stealing your soul, used to have. Lovely Topaz has adapted to medication for her oral infection through repeated application of delicious tuna, but the steroids have done little for her dark mood. Sweetpea now gazes at me with such adoration I hardly mind when I wake up pinned to my mattress by a 12 lb. cat, though I get the feeling she might be a liiiiittle bit obsessive. I like to think I’m paying gentle, constant attention, but where the cats are concerned, I might overpay.