Thursday, May 30, 2019

Thursday This n That

I've said it before... Enough with the weather already.  I'm writing this on Wednesday because we're supposed to get storms again and I want this scheduled in case we lose power.

I have a wild rose bush in one of my gardens.  I bought a trellis and trained the damn thing onto it.  Except now it's so huge that the wind keeps dragging on it and pulling the trellis over.  (And the moles keep undermining the base, which doesn't help.)  So I have to go out and right it.  She's kind of a bitch, that rosebush.  She likes to bite.  Thus, I get little scratches and puncture marks on my hands and arms.  But she's pretty, so I haven't resorted to cutting her back to the ground.  Yet.  If I do, it'll be okay.  Wild roses are notoriously hard to kill.

My cultured roses exploded with blooms this year.  Well, they were all cultured.  Two of them went feral.  The blooms are still pretty and they're still more domesticated than the wild rose, but the flowers are smaller and one of them is getting out of control.  It's all like 'BAM, here I am, taking over your porch'.  I should've taken pics.

It's almost the end of the month.  How'd that happen?  Ugh.  Time is flying by this year.

My Dad's birthday is Sunday.  He would've been 83.  I totally can't think of him as 83.  He died just short of his 66th birthday.  Even then, though, I can't think of him in his 60s.  In my head, he'll always be younger.  The 'before he got sick' version of Dad - pre-Wegener's Disease, pre-kidney failure, pre-dialysis.  I'd say pre-heart problems, but those started when I was 10, and I don't have a lot of memories of my childhood, so more like an '80s version of Dad.  Like this:
Out fishing in like 1985.  I come by the fishing thing honestly.

Right now, I'm reading a SF anthology from the 1950s.  The first story was more like a novella and very good.  The next two... Meh.  I don't often read anthologies for this very reason.  It's hard to rate them as a book when the stories vary so widely.  :shrug:  Still, it's interesting and the shorter stories are what I need right now.

Okay, well, that's about all I can think of this morning and I'm sure you're heard quite enough out of me.  If you're in the stormy areas, hang onto your asses.  If I don't approve your comments in a timely fashion, we dark over here.  If I do, we made it through fine.

What kinds of this-n-thats do you have going on right now?

Thursday morning add-on:  We didn't get the storms they were predicting.  Again.


2 comments:

  1. I managed to kill the "wild" climbing red rose bush. The vintage/antique pink rose bush is still hanging on. It's spindly, ugly, blooms twice a year (spring and fall) but the roses are the most perfect pink buds I've ever seen.

    My peony bush bloomed. Then the rain came. Those larger blossoms lasted all of about 2 days. :(

    We've had record rain but the tornadoes and flooding hasn't hit "here." ALl around us, across the state, but not right "here." I keep knocking on wood.

    Still missing Cooper. It's been a week.

    I'm writing. It's worse than pulling teeth without novacaine and it's ugly, but new words. I have no choice. I have to have something to turn in in 16 days. *FLAIL*

    When I rate anthologies, I give each entry a score and then average them for the whole thing.

    I've fried up 2 lbs. of bacon and 2 pounsd of sausage patties for the pancake breakfast at the Post Saturday. That's half. The folks who normally do it are sick and/or out of town. I figured it would be easier for me to do it over several days than turn a couple of the guys (including LG) lose at the post on Friday night. I'll finish the batch today after I get my7 word count down.

    That's it for me.

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  2. I love love LOVE wild roses! And I'd love to see a pic. I had roses in California that did okay (considering my brown thumb) but all the ones I planted here died. In their first year. It gets way too hot!

    Many of the crape myrtles are blooming. Not mine, but I have hope for them this year.

    I saw two turtles this week (or the same one twice). It's a record!

    The monster rainstorms predicted here missed us.

    I finished 1868 and started 1869. Yay! <8-D

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