Even Though No One Read This Morning’s Post

Self is keeping it! Because self truly feels that dear blog readers should be able to read something other than the pablum being dished to us on the nightly news.

Today, self hied herself out of doors long enough to:

Tie back long-ish stems of:

Self is so proud of herself, dear blog readers! Five years ago self wouldn’t have had the foggiest idea what the above-named plants were. Now she has them all flourishing in her garden. Around noon, self interrupted hubby’s strenuous mid-day labors to inform him that if he watered deeply on the weekends, all the plants would survive. And that he should never, under no circumstances whatsoever, water her roses at night, or they will develop rust and black spots and in two weeks, when self returns, it will be too late to reverse the viruses and self will just have to lop off canes and that will mean no blooming roses this summer.

Then, self ran some errands, which involved doing the following:

    Buying a box of See’s chocolates for Melissa A. for when self sees her in New York, Saturday morning, 7:30 a.m. (Self and Melissa meeting for breakfast! Then high-tailing it to the Frick! Where self’s 16-year-old nephew will meet up with us!). As self was stepping out of the store, she overheard the girl at the See’s counter heave a heartfelt sigh and murmur, “I love this job.”
    High-tailing it to Post Office and mailing a story to Tin House. She hasn’t bothered them since 2006, so she feels she’s entitled. With Tin House, self can be “cool” (unlike with Prairie Schooner, to whom self now submits a story every six months, out of sheer stubborn-ness. Every time the SASEs come back, with the little postage-stamp size rejection slips, with not even a signature — at least, someone has the wherewithal to stamp “Prairie Schooner” on the outside of the envelope, as if self needed to be reminded about who exactly it is rejecting her — self just turns around and pops another one in the mail. She’s pretty sure by now no one even bothers to read the first page. Probably all a first reader has to do is look at the name and go, “Put this in the s__t pile!”)
    Bought a New York Times, because tonight self is blessedly free (Hubby informed self he’d be coming home late again, and even if he does show up earlier than expected, self is prepared to serve him a rotisserie chicken from Safeway — Ha ha ha ha!). Tomorrow self will be running around with cousin Maitoni who is visiting from Virginia: she’ll be picking up niece G from Stanford, right after teaching her morning class at xxxx community college, and we are all going to Half Moon Bay for a late lunch at Pasta Moon. Then we will meander down the coast a bit, then wend back, and hopefully by the time we get back to Redwood City, hubby will be home so he can treat us to margaritas at Margarita’s.

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