Cold the Ground Is Still Warm To Touch

Siobhan predicted a rainstorm at 5 and at 5 came the cloudburst. Pete and I sat on the porch while garbage floated downstream – I mean, down the street.

Drusy and Sweetpea considered why we would want to be so close to all that wet, wet – possibly delicious – peril.

And It’s Turning Out All

This evening, I went out to pick herbs for dinner and found someone had invited himself or herself or deerself to dine. At first, I wasn’t sure what was amiss. The tenant’s giant squash plant looked a little squishy and a lot less giant, though it took a second look to determine why. The long golden flowers were all tucked into the planter but the elephantine leaves that shaded them were all gone. Suddenly, I was suspicious and crept around the outside of the garden fence. The tops of carrot flowers were nibbled off, but most of the garden was fine. Fortunately, I was staring at stems and crab-walking like a refugee from Mumenschantz when my neighbor, hosing down his broccoli, said, “Hey Domy, whatcha doin’?”

Only Grandpa ever called me Domy, so I stopped crab-walking to stare at him. Teddy, who looks exactly like his dog should introduce himself with a hale, “Peabody here,” is not properly afraid of me. He is fairly sure that I am crazy and will sit and watch his chickens do silly, chickeny things and he is right. He is looking at me now like he is considering his options, but I am not worried.

Tata: It looks like we’ve had one deer stop by on the way back to the bar. The brussel sprouts are a goner!
Teddy: I covered my broccoli with mesh – you know that wire mesh – I covered my broccoli with the mesh and I got perfect broccoli.
Tata: That’s…exciting. Someone looked over the fence here and found miniature cabbage leaves at eye level. But there wasn’t much else to eat.

I leaned on something Pete and I should remove at our earliest convenience.

Teddy: What is that, anyway?
Tata: It was a peach tree.
Teddy: It was a peach tree?

I rearranged a dead little branch to lean on another dead little branch.

Tata: It has gone to Heaven.

We both stared at the tragic little branches.

Tata: Well, nice talking with you. I gotta go slice the still-living limbs from defenseless plants. See you!

You may be trying to outrun a terrible memory. I tried to sew once.

Promote the General Welfare And Secure the Blessings Of

I’ve been standing around with my hands stuffed in tighter and tighter pockets, waiting for my lungs to feel less furry after that bizarre plague while all around me spring is springing. The thought occurs: Hey, Princess, remember that time you blogged the Constitution? No? Well, maybe you should. Also: where’d you hide the remote?

So. In the fall of 2006, right before the site I was storing Poor Impulse Control’s images on went kerflooey, we undertook this undertaking, intended to enhance understanding.

Bill of Rights
Part 1, including yogurt
Part 2, including NyQuil
Part 3, now with less snot!
Part 4, and yodeling
Part 5, extra cringy

The Meaty Stuff
Part 1, hot and cold
Part 2, a painful history
Part 3, bubbles that scrub
Part 4, plus shape-shifting
Part 5, shiftless
Part 6, including Johnny
Part 7, perilous produce
Part 8, including Fifi
Part 9, with mood lighting
Part 10, costume drama
Part 11, with feelin’

Back to the beginning
Part 1, autumnal
Part 2, an IQ test
Part 3, hairdo and don’t
Part 4, cattle
Part 5, togetherness
Part 6, voterosity
Part 7, cat bath
Part 8, a pricy prize
Part 9, spiral
Part 10, cucumber
Part 11, organ music
Part 12, crackpottery
Part 13, most papery
Part 14, compulsion
Part 15, listy
Part 16, clam bar confab
Part 17, starboard
Part 18, Oscar

Omigod, it’s a miracle my laptop didn’t sustain friction burns!