Photos, Cursed Wind, and ‘The Babster’ Policing the Garden

Okay before I start does anyone besides me think this looks like an erect, miniature part of the male anatomy? Well…it is a cucumber…


Anyhoozle…while I was waging war on social media yesterday my poor garden was exposed to the most horrible Santa Ana winds. That’s what the weather folks call them. I call them The Devil’s Hair Dryer. Occasionally, and with no rhyme or reason, the devil’s wind blows (probably in protest of Saint Ana who must really have pissed him off) and sucks out all the moisture from the air, which makes my plants very unhappy. Think young Clint Eastwood versus talking-to-the-empty-chair Eastwood and you’ll have an idea what that dry wind can do to my babies.

And in other news, WTF is up with the weather on the East Coast?! Like are you guys EVER going to have a spring, or just one long winter and then a blistering summer only for Hell to freeze over two months later?! I think I’ll take the Santa Ana’s and just mulch really well and spritz my tomatoes with vitamin water and recite the rosary. (I’m not Catholic though; will it still work?)

Also The Babster has become very territorial over the garden, and what I once thought was my haven has now become Mommy-Daughter Time, all day and every day. No matter where she is in the house…could be the toilet going Number Two…if she hears the back door creak  she’ll romp down the stairs, toilet paper trailing like a kite between her butt cheeks, into the garden to see what I’m up to.

She owns the strawberries, bitches!!



See her little hand grasping that strawberry on the lower right of the photo? Better back away slowly…

She has opinions about the lavender too…


No but seriously, I love that me and The Babster have something special just for us. The other kids aren’t as interested in gardening as she is, and that little fairy has been with me since the beginning when I was putting tomato seeds under the plant light in the middle of January. I loves it, just like I did when my dad was alive. There’s something really special about creating those memories.

But dang, can’t a mother have a moment’s peace to swig her vodka in the privacy of her own squashes?!

In other news, this is a beautiful cabbage.


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