It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood – lots of sunshine and beautiful flowers. Lots of bees, too, for which I am grateful. Keeping the bee population in a healthy place will help keep our food costs down and everyone is happy.
Hey, anybody know when we’re supposed to plant lettuce up here in the Pacific NW? I’m thinking it might be March, in which case, I’d better do it today since we are about to run out of March. JS
Today, in 1922, my mother, Jo Seay, was born.
She left so long ago, in 1986 at age 64, it’s hard to think of her as 93, but that’s how old she would have been today.
I always get a little melancholy – not a hard thing for me to do – when this time of year rolls around, just thinking of her, since it was both the time of year in which she was born and the time of year in which she died.
My mother was so spectacular. She and I disagreed about almost everything – politics and religion being the big ones – but I loved her fiercely and was proud of her beauty and her brilliance, her wicked sense of humor, and her laugh that could (and did!) clear a movie theater (YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN.) Besides, no mother on our block could smack a baseball like my Mom.
So, Happy Birthday, Mother! I still miss you every day. Every. Single. Day. I’m not expecting that to change. JS
I don’t like using Roundup on weeds and stuff because I don’t like Monsanto. However, weeds and stuff I don’t want grow in great abundance up here in the Pacific NW.
My high school friend, Pam Dent Webb, posted a recipe for a do-it-yersef weed zapping formula which, I must say, works like a charm.
In a half gallon of apple cider vinegar, add 1/2 cup of Epsom salt and 1 tsp. of Dawn dish-washing liquid. Shake it up and pour what you need into a spray bottle.
Squirt it on the offending plants when the sun is shining. By the next morning, they will be saying good-bye.
This works only on plants, though. Squirting it on humans won’t make them go away (I tried); but they’ll be plenty pissed. JS
Pulling weeds in the rain is probably not the smartest thing to do, but it is the easiest. Vegetation grows deep up here in the Pacific NW, which means I’ve probably uprooted a plant or two in China today, like a gopher going after my verbenas. Sorry, folks. JS
In the Portland airport yesterday morning, I bought Chelsea Handler’s new book, UGANDA BE KIDDING ME, about her trip to Africa. It is SCREAMINGLY funny, and I’d read 2/3 of it by the time I got onto my connecting flight out of Chicago to Tulsa. I was surrounded on this flight with several cancer patients heading back to Tulsa after a particular kind of cancer treatment in Chicago.
The young woman sitting across the aisle from me saw me laughing and asked, “Is that book good?”
It was, indeed, I told her, thinking this is a book that would make Stef Neyhart fall over sideways laughing. (For example: Chelsea Handler says the 3 things any world traveler needs are these essentials – 1.) a compass 2.) skiis and 3.) a shotgun.)
Anyway, as I studied this young woman’s face, I noticed that it seemed swollen and a little gray. Her eyes looked dull, with a fear peeking out back in there somewhere. WAS SHE A CANCER PATIENT, TOO? CAN I JUST ASK HER THAT? I MEAN, WHAT IS PROPER HERE? IS THERE A CANCER PROTOCOL? AND, IF THERE IS, WHY DON’T I KNOW IT? AND, WHAT IF SHE BREAKS DOWN IN TEARS? OR – EVEN WORSE – WHAT IF SHE’S NOT A CANCER PATIENT AND WANTS TO KNOW WHY I THINK THAT, THEN I BUMBLE THROUGH A RAGGEDLY HONEST EXCUSE FOR WHY I EVEN THOUGHT THAT AND THEN SHE’S FOREVER FRETTING OVER HER BLOATED, GRAY FACE AND DULL, FEARFUL EYES? JEEPERS, WHAT A MESS I’VE CREATED – GOOD JOB, JODY! YAY, ME!
“I’ve thought about getting that book for my brother and his boyfriend because they LOVE Chelsea Handler,” she said, “then I could read it before I give it to them.”
I am a pretty fast reader, but I have never read the last third of any book faster than I read that one yesterday. I can’t say I exactly remember what I read in the last third of the book, either, but as the wheels to our plane touched down on the Tulsa runway yesterday, I closed the book and held it across the aisle to this young woman. “For you,” I said, as she smiled and took the treasure from my hand, “today is a good day to laugh.”
And, Stef Neyhart, the most gentle one in the world who keeps me calm, said just what I knew she would say, what is ALWAYS in her heart, as I told her the story on the phone last night, “Always go with the greater need.” She was right, as usual. And, so, I did. JS
