I’ve gone into my yard in my robe so many times now that I figure the neighbors think I’m now a professional The Dude impersonator.
Speaking of my yard, it’s starting to bloom. It’s Judy Blume. Are you there, God?
Hard to believe, after that great storm.
Here, I took more pictures of things blooming in my yard today, whilst be-robed. Yeah, well. That’s just, like, you know, your opinion, man.
I see I have to clean that door. EDSEL.
Also my neighbor, R, was here and as she walked past my flower bed in the front, she said, “Our day lilies are gonna be great, I think!”
I had completely forgotten that last year, a site near us was being reconstructed thanks to all the gentrification assholes who moved in here.
Anyway, they’d dug up a bunch of dirt, INCLUDING very old day lilies. They were just lying there dying in a flatbed thing, so R and I took them, divided them between us, and planted them in our respective yards. It was summer and hot AF. I totally forgot we’d done that.
This is like when I buy post-Xmas things on sale and am delighted to discover them the next year.
Anyway, I was all, Oh, YEAH! I have day lilies! And they’re a pretty yellow, not that horrific orange. Their little sprouts are just peeping up.
So that’s exciting, and I do so like spring here even though it renders me hoarse due to pollen.
In other news, my trainer came by yesterday as well. I had a whole day of socializing, if by “socializing” you mean I went to the doctor. I’m now officially old. Going to the doctor is how I go out. But I mean, I also had visitors galore. BTW, doctor says I’m healing well other than I need to be taking the ibuprofen, which I haven’t, and that is why if I walk around too much I get nauseated.
She said I am downplaying the pain and need to keep ahead of it. I liked this, because it’s the only time anyone has ever insinuated I’m stoic. I think it’s just because I have an extremely high threshold for pain.
You know, I joke when I say that, but do you recall the migraine study I was in where they purposely inflicted pain on us, then for 10 weeks I learned how to manage pain, allegedly (I think I was in the control group, actually) (story of my life)? They’d inflict the pain and you’d tell them to stop when it got to be too much. I had this done a few times and I recall them saying, “Wow!” when I’d finally say, okay stop, that’s enough. I was dying to know what Wow meant. Am I super butch?
Anyway. My trainer made me soup that was unhealthy, and also she made cookies that were unhealthy and they were
BOTH FEKKING DELICIOUS.
The kind of delicious where I kept eating more, standing in my kitchen, when what I meant to do was put everything away. Her son, who is my people, also loves that soup and said, “It will make a turd.”
Once I was at her house, doing the training, and as I pulled up he and his equally ridic high school friends were bringing giant pieces of wood into the house. My trainer is one of those clean people, you know what I mean? And she was all, “I do not want a mess. I do not want this wood in my house.” They assured her it was temporary and headed upstairs. Her training area is the garage, and it’s a townhouse, so the kitchen is upstairs.
Moments later WE HEARD SAWING and she was all, “I am so sorry” and SCREAMED upstairs.
He’d turned on a sawing video on YouTube to just get her goat, and that is when I began to realize he was my people.
“Do not tell anyone your trainer brought you such unhealthy things,” she said, and I assured her I am a vault. Also, just to be hilarious, she chose this bag to bring the food:
This is the bag that held the ashes of her dog, fmr., Otis. She knew I’d appreciate the absurdity of this.
Anyway, NONE of this is why I’ve gathered you today. Today I thought we’d start our series, Redecorate the Millhouse. I told you I have things I’d like to change here, and ask me if I have the money. Still, I want to get ideas and then, you know, save up or get a sugar daddy or what have you.
I feel like at my age I can’t get a sugar daddy but maybe a Karo grandpa.
Okay, first millhouse issue: The window treatments. (I’m all of a sudden a fey decorator. Next I’ll say tablescape.)
Is it possible for me to take a photo of my house WITHOUT an animal in it?
Anyway, the people who owned this house were much classier than me. So anything they left behind is “good.” These blinds are wooden, and in good shape. They also left up really nice heavy beige drapes, which I gave to my neighbor who can’t afford new drapes.
Anyway, these aren’t bad, but I’m more of a scalloped blinds (and potatoes) gal, which I’ve had at several houses.
I also think really airy lace curtains would be lovely. But am I turning into Tweety Bird’s mother? Is this all too old?
Also, is everything too white? White walls, white WINDOW TREATMENTS?
This is where I seek the help of you, the reader, during this, my convalescence.
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Make a turd,