How’s my wipstick

I know the shtick around here has been the fall gal/gardener disaster/attack of the rabid rabbits/Nitrogen fiasco/thieving patio squirrels/{need I go on?}

But so far this season, things are going quite well.

I don’t know what to do with my hands.

Or what to write about.

So we could just sit here awkwardly, or I could show you some pictures.

Let’s go with that.

Know those days when you just need a purple cauliflower to finally show up?? No? So that’s not, like, a thing?

I had one of those days, and it showed up at just the right time…not late…not early…on time. And now it looks like this:

Come here, you little play-pretty.

I texted a picture of it to two kind-hearted friends last night. They probably rolled their eyes and giggled but WHO CARES DID YOU SEE MY PURPLE CAULIFLOWER.

Also:

Dear sister,

Do you remember that time I went out of town in February and you took care of these cauliflower starts for me? See, you didn’t kill them.

Love, Holly

Kindergarten is over and I can’t talk about it. So to distract me from curling up in the fetal position and crying, we went to Leiom’s house. His parents love vowels. Obsessive love of vowels. Good thing I am familiar with such a malady, as my neighbors are huge fans of consonants.

There were no mermaids in the pool. Not even any muuuuurmaids. But this is just me pandering to get my niece to visit us again this summer.

The purple pinecones are out in full force. {Lookout, Joe Gardener, joke poach…} I bought new jars and lids and that grabby thing to get your jars out of the boiling hot water to avoid some mishaps I may have almost gotten myself into in the recent past, all thinking I would make some jam… Problem is, some of the berries have to actually make it inside the house for that to happen.

Let’s keep it well rounded, people.

First tomato showed up yesterday!! It’s so cute and tiny and not at all ready to eat but I will look at it on my counter all day long today and hope for thousands more. Bitty E felt the need to remind me last night that, “I don’t like tomatoes, mom.”

{And where’s this “mom” stuff coming from, anyway?? What are you, 10?? YOU ARE NOT TEN AND IT’S NOT EVEN CLOSE and bitty G dropped the “Holly” the other day, too. Timing seems about right–I think I remember her older sister pulling the same game around age 3. “And what would you like, Holly?”

“I would like to place a very large brick on your head so you will quit growing up, that’s what I’d like, thank you very much. And some more pretend tea will also do. Two sugars, please. And it’s time to reapply your bwackberry wipstick; you must have licked it off.”}

I’ll wear her down eventually…about the tomatoes thing. And I just learned of a man who grows thousands of tomatoes on his driveway, which means I’ll also eventually wear David down. My HOA might be a different story, but I’m coming for ya… Mua ha ha.