Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Cue the sappy music

This is a love story.  It involves longing looks, proclamations of everlasting devotion, drunken late-night phone calls with the inevitable voice messages filled with questions like "Why don't you ever call ME?"  and "What exactly ARE we?  Dating?  Talking?  Married with three kids?" and "Does this smart phone make me look fat?" and "I only said I love you because I really wanted one of the cookies you were baking.  I mean, I do love you, but you know, um, it's like-love, not love-love.  Unless you love me back.  And in that case, why haven't you proposed yet?".


I'm getting my story confused with someone else's.  Her name is Sky.  His name is Bryan. Oops.

I actually want to show you my favorite gardening tool.  Wait! Don't leave yet.  It's worth a look.  Or should I say They're worth a look.

My mom sent these gloves to me a few months ago.  They're the best I've ever owned.  That doesn't really mean much since I usually buy the 50 cent clearance gloves while I'm checking out at the garden store, and those last about 2 trips outside before disintegrating, but seriously, these new gloves are great.  They protect the wrist and part of your arms, which is great when you're dealing with the spiked vines from hell, sticks, logs, rocks, broken toilet lids (don't ask), rotten wood, compost, and even dirty diapers (just kidding).

The magic ingredient.

Anyway, we're already living together.  It's been a whirlwind romance.  Clear the month of June and expect your invitation soon.

P.S. A month ago, I threw some lettuce seeds in the ground because I read that even if it takes forever, lettuce will germinate at cold temps almost 100% of the time.  I also wanted to test our soil (which you can see ain't that great).  Well, here are a few tiny seedlings.

Damn, that soil needs work.  It's got more wrinkles than my face despite regular watering (which lettuce definitely requires).  Maybe the gloves will help it out. I'll allow it, although I might get jealous.


  1. But... but... but...

    I thought I was your favorite gardening tool... or when you said that, did you mean "a tool who gardens"?

    1. You're my favorite personal servant, Bryan, I mean, Ryan. I can't label you as useful only in the garden. You're great all around (like for painting our ugly fireplace).


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