I had a thriving pink bleeding heart that I tried to transplant. That was not successful. But, this seems to be a good choice.
1 comment on Bleeding Heart redux
Category: a day in this life
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‘Valentine’ -
When I was little, my dad taught himself to play the guitar. When he was actually able to play songs, we would sing along with him. He played for decades and tended to choose old country music, Hank, Patsy, Waylon and Willie.
One of our favorite songs to sing with him was Butter Beans by Little Jimmy Dickens.
In the Episcopal church, the service on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is frequently when babies are christened. The service starts with no lights and no music and as it progresses. Candles are lit and music is added during the collection, which happens around the middle of the service. Eventually, everyone leaves the church to exuberant hymns with candles and lights everywhere, in anticipation of the joy of Easter.
For 3 or 4 years (if I recall correctly, I wasn’t always there) some of the members of my parents’ church were in a jazz band and they offered to do the Easter Saturday music, giving the choir a break from singing before all the action on Easter. The music was always good and the recessional was a kind of Dixieland parade into the parish hall where there was a party for the newly christened, their families and the rest of the congregation.
The year my youngest nephew was christened, they played Just a Closer Walk With Thee. Just the music; no voices. And my younger sister and I got tickled. In the middle of the service. We tried really hard to stifle the giggles. But, we weren’t as subtle as we hoped and our youngest sister, the mother of the candidate, leaned up and asked us what was so funny. And we told her. So, there were all the daughters of the rector snickering in the middle of the christening of his youngest grandchild. We did manage to pull ourselves together by the end of the hymn and finish the service behaving like adults.
Later, in the parish hall, my father sidled up to me and said. “What had you all giggling during the Offertory?”
And I said, “Because, they were playing ‘Butter Beans’ in church.”
The beginning of the service, before we all processed in, silently. Click through and listen. Then, tell me we were wrong.
He couldn’t.
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I wish restaurants wouldn’t call any random salad they want to fancy up a Caesar salad.
Kale & Radicchio, with creamy sunflower dressing, grilled onion, nori, and whatever “crumble” is, is NOT remotely a Caesar salad.
They aren’t even cousins.
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They’re cute. They’re fluffy. They have those adorable little paws. And they are total assholes. Also, stupid.
When I moved into a duplex in Charleston, SC, there was a tiny piece of yard. I planted 24 crocus bulbs. Squirrels dug up every one, took a single bite, hated it and tried the next one. They never learned that if it looks exactly the same, it is going to be just as nasty.
That was the start of my loathing. And nothing has changed my mind.
When Vash was debating being a yard cat, we left kibble out for him. We spotted cardinals helping themselves when it had snowed and decided that bird feeders were in order.
And the squirrels thought they should help themselves.
IF they didn’t also help themselves to tomatoes, more bulbs and strawberries, I might be inclined to be more kindly. But, they’re just destructive and I refuse to encourage them.
We have 3 Squirrel Buster feeders off the deck and think it’s funny, in a mean way, when new squirrels try to figure out how to get in them. It’s doesn’t work. Those things are effective. And watching squirrels bouncing around on them is vastly entertaining.
One night, something tore up the alternative squirrel-proof feeder my husband put in the front yard. It might have been the bear. It might have been a raccoon or opossum. It wasn’t a squirrel. So, that feeder goes in and out instead of remaining available.
And, since birds are dribblers, the squirrels do have one shot at getting snacks from us.
I don’t mind them cleaning up the wasted millet. They are clearly not starving.
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We had a party, ages ago, and I wanted to make carrot cake. But, I decided that slices of cake was awkward because it can be hard to slice that very thin. With everything else on the table, I didn’t expect people to want large pieces.
So, I decided on miniature cupcakes. They would be a couple of bites and folks could have as little or as much suited them. In addition, rather than frost all of them, I put the frosting in a bowl so that people could have as little or as much as they preferred. (My child doesn’t care for frosting and would always pick it off. That made me think there might be other people in the world who felt the same way.).
At the end of the night, most of the cupcakes were gone and the bowl of frosting was almost untouched. My family didn’t bother finishing what was left either.
I have quit bothering to make layered cakes. Instead I make cupcakes and freeze most of them. This allows us to have more manageable portion control. A cupcake thaws pretty quickly and we don’t feel that we have to eat a whole cake in a week.
Also, I’ve quit frosting the carrot cupcakes and finally realized that, without the frosting, they are, indeed, muffins.
I am the Audience 