Welcome to Tuesday. Just your usual random oddball happenings here in Suburbiaville.
- Yew Like Me, Yew Really Like Me: I needed advice on what to do with Yew. And as they say, ask and Yew shall receive. Apparently, I am as hopeless a gardener as I had believed, because it seems I was the only person on the face of the earth who didn’t know I could just sink Yew in the garden to winter over until I could plant him. And so today — IN NOVEMBER, I am SUCH an ass — I trucked out in the rain, and put Yew in a nice deep hole in the vegetable garden with some leaves for insulation. Possibly I will make him a lovely little burlap tent if, you know, I can find some burlap somewhere. So hopefully we’ll see Yew again next spring, ready to fulfill his destiny as a tenant of the Far Back Reaches of the Far Back-est Garden. And, let’s be honest — this is the most useful the veggie garden has been all year.
- It’s Like Christmas All Year Long: I mentioned that on the weekend, we went a little holiday decorating mental, and we put up our little festive greeting tree in the foyer. Well, I have to tell you, Stinkerbelle is positively ENCHANTED by this little tree. She doesn’t have the language to express herself fully, so she just calls it “Christmas”. She comes downstairs from her nap and says, “Good morning, Christmas!” When we leave somewhere when we are out, she says “Let’s go home and see Christmas!” When we unplug it for the night, she says wistfully, “Christmas is all done today…” And Michaels, where we bought it? It’s “Christmas store”. I think that if she is THIS excited about one decoration, when the actual DAY comes along, it’s going to blow her tiny mind.
- Back Off Mister, Or I’ll Call My Geriatric Posse: I have mentioned, a long time ago, that there’s this old man in our neighbourhood who rides his bicycle on the sidewalk. And he seems to think that he has the right of way, whether I am walking alone, or pushing a stroller, and he seems to think I should move out of his way. Or maybe he’s just a miserable old fucker. I don’t know. Well, doesn’t matter, for it is against the local laws to ride your bicycle on the sidewalk here in Suburbiaville — I looked it up. Anyway, for a couple of days this week and last, it has been unseasonably warm. Yesterday was 15 degrees out. So Stinkerbelle asked to stroller to school, and I was more than happy to oblige. So off we went and I dropped her off at school, and left the stroller there for the return trip. And I walked home. And who should I see coming toward me, but Old Bicycle Man. And sure enough, he’s rolling along like I need to get out of his way. So I held my ground and said “ON THE ROAD, OLD MAN!” And while he didn’t get on the road, he did veer around me and onto the boulevard. But here’s the thing — I have learned he lives on my street. So if he crosses me again? I’m reporting him to the powers that be. Or even the old ladies in the Tuesday aquafit class who love Stinkerbelle. They seem like they’ve got game. (Also, he’s taken it upon himself to TILL AND PLANT A GARDEN IN THE CONSERVATION AREA. Like it’s his land or something. So, between that and the bicycle? Old Man, IT IS SO ON.)