Coda

I am about to provide you with some foresight. Yay. Something useful for a change.

Remember this from several posts back?

old news

The garden witch at Eastern Market swore that this $20 (gag) bunch of jolly green poofs would last me three weeks.  It did not.  We just passed two weeks and I have discarded all but one branch and that one branch has a few sad pendules suspenduled and, you might note, these are beginning to seep a silky fuzz from barely visible cracks.

close up of fuzzy stuff

The worst of it happened late last week, when the branches now discarded exploded behind the sofa and I carefully lifted them from the vase and tiptoed with them to the kitchen sink as fairy fluffs flew off floating (sorry-- say that three times fast) themselves in the shimmering dust that is the air in the living room.

AND THEN THEY WENT INSANE, sticking to the damp of the kitchen sink and the towels I attempted to use to mop them up and spraying the counter along with the this and that I keep about and catching in my hair and my clothes and my f-ing contact lenses, you should pardon my French. We will be eating this stuff for days. I now stick to serving white foods.

I thought as I cursed and dusted and mopped that I should really take a photo of this for the blog because it is ridiculous and a perfect example of how things go wrong with my tidy little life that seems so genius and self-satisfied at some moments and then laughs hysterically as I flail about. 

Living is a treacherous thing to do. You never know. You just never never know.

Do you realize I seldom edit myself? That is an aside. It is also why you find commas and such in strange places.

Anyway, to resume, we are down to a few of these poof balls, a sorry display that is now seeping and about to explode one final time and I hope I remember not to buy these things (which I still don't know the name of) ever ever again.

They did look pretty though, didn't they?

Something Purchased

O what is this thing I actually bought?  Well, most of it.

These jolly green lanterns sparked with insignificant yet sprightly white flowers pendul from what look like stems of bamboo. There was a mountainous display of them at Eastern Market yesterday and as the flower witch who tends the stall assured me, they will last for three weeks. $20. Three weeks. That's uh... $6 and change per week. A great deal more than the nothing I usually spend but really -- is this not a fantastic sight?

The bunch, which was sizable to begin with, is nestled in some leafy branches downed in Saturday night's storm -- a handy idea when you only have a little this and that and want to DO SOMETHING with it. In this case, the branches provide support for the slender stems and also amplify their fabulousness.

I have stuffed it all in the broken pedestal I blathered on about several posts ago. Since it's not engineered to hold water,  a sawed off plastic water bottle is stuck in the opening.

That is, when one's Prince has not discarded one's bottle, which is what happened on this particular occasion.

Ready or Not...

The prince has this idea that I should start gardening, or creating gardens, since it appears I'm alive and will probably remain so for at least the near future. To that end he's signed us up for some minor league expo at Eastern Market that's being sponsored by Frager's, our local hardware and garden emporium.

I was not asked my opinion of this.

What Ho! It's Curly Willow!

Today's constitutional, designed to keep me in robust physical and mental health, brought me as always to Marvelous Market, where I sat on a bistro chair for an hour and by turns tried to figure out something to write and glared at a baby in a stroller to see if I could alarm him (I assume it was a him since he was wearing a blue onesy).

I was not successful at either thing. Blather blat blat blat went my pen in my fat pink CVS spiral notebook and no matter how formidable I tried to look, whenever it was that I looked up, the baby just stared at me  and then offered a big mouthed yawn as his mother finally wheeled him away. There is something very askew with my ability to terrify.

Blat blat blat I wrote that down then packed myself up and crossed the street to examine Eastern Market, as if I don't examine it nearly every day but Monday when it is closed.