Archive for April 2010
I feel a bit sheepish about yesterday’s post . I told Michael I felt like deleting it, but before I did so, I thought I’d check my stats to see how many people had actually viewed it. Now, bearing in mind that I haven’t been blogging for two months and my stats are really low, imagine my surprise to see that I had gotten over 40 hits. Hahaha. Typical. So I left it up.
As for my title – I intended doing a long post around it, about how the roses have helped me deal with a really annoying and persistent symptom of my MS, but the time, she has gotten away from me.
I need to make supper. Lean beef-patty hamburgers, salad and muffins with old-fashioned, cooked vanilla frosting for dessert. How eclectic. Also, cobbled together out of desperation for inspiration in the kitchen. Blah, I’m such a crap housewife sometimes.
Anyway, in lieu of an actual post about stuff, here are some photo’s from my rose garden to tide things over for now
First up, the beautiful and dainty Regensburg rose. Prolific and glamorous.
The SOS Children’s rose outdid itself with a splendid flush in March.
The Pearl of Bedfordview would not look out of place on a wedding-cake, I think.
Peace. No self-respecting rose garden would be complete without this classic.
And that’s a wrap, I smell patties burning…
Yeah, funny story that does not cast me in the most flattering of light. But sometimes one needs to not take oneself too seriously when there is a funny story to be told.
After all, everyone farts. (Apparently at an average of 15-25 times a day).
Now, just to be clear, I do not make a habit out of farting in front of my husband. Quite the contrary. I go to lengths to keep things ladylike. From my side, anyway.
But let’s face it, one is only human and in almost ten years of marriage, there is going to be the occasional slip.
Which brings me to yesterday.
Michael was working on his laptop, and I was playing on my piano.
Allow me to post a quick photo to illustrate the proximity between the two…
It is very companionable, we find. Him, typing away at his keys, me playing away at mine.
Anyway, last night, I was playing away merrily, when the tiniest gas molecule made a (successful) bid for freedom. I might have gotten away with it, had I not been sitting on a particularly spiteful wooden chair. The fart that ensued was short, sweet and very squeaky.
I decided to brazen it out, hoping that it had been lost amongst the notes of the piano melody.
After a while of continuing to play, straight-faced, I snuck a glance at Michael.
He was looking at me with a grin on his face.
“That was a funny sound your piano made,” he said.
Without missing a beat, I replied, “Oh, did you hear that high C?”
He grinned some more and said, “It sounded more like an F to me.”
To which we both packed out laughing and got all our endorphins for the day in one go.
Why are farts so funny? From age 2 till 102, they will nearly always elicit a giggle. (Even if only on the inside.)
And now, to add a touch of sorely lacking class to this post, here is a photo I took the other day of an African Monarch (thanks, Dad) butterfly, sitting on a bud of my S.O.S. Children’s rose bush…
This is Peeko…
This is Peeko and Ted E. Bear, his best friend…
Peeko is as real as the Velveteen Rabbit ever was.
Edited to add:
Peeko was given to me years and years ago by Michael. And I loved him.
Now Beary and Teddy love him. Even if they do take him outside and leave him in the rain, they always bring him back in. He’s never far from where the action is, lol.