A shameful secret has come to light.
I admit it, I have two black thumbs, and my fingers and palms are pretty black as well. Most of my plants are fakes. I have two live plants, outside in pots. One is a Christmas Cactus, the other is a Jade Plant. They belonged to my mother, and I've had them both for twenty years, and they are still alive. In fact, when I moved, I transplanted them into bigger pots, and not only did they survive, they thrived! Considering you have to be a hardy plant to survive my talents, I feel I've done well, with no real effort. This morning I discovered why they are thriving.
My neighbor waters them regularly.
I caught her in the act. She is a lovely woman, and she twinkled at me as I thanked her. "Oh,"
she said. "Not a problem! I know you're busy."
Succulents and Cacti need water. Who knew?
I crave water, myself- I love to swim, and I love to be out on the water. Any kind- lake, ocean, pond, river, whatever I can get.
I had a date once who decided that I should learn to sail one of those one-man sailboats. Off we went to a local lake. The water was a bit chilly, so we put on wetsuits.
Really, is there anything less flattering than neoprene? The thicker suits, the kind you wear for scuba, they at least hide everything, but the thinner ones, made for swimming and surfing and kayaking, just accentuate every single bump, wrinkle and flesh-fold. You feel like a sausage, squeezed into casing, all your fat squishing out above and below. Not attractive. Why is it that men, on the other hand, look okay in their wetsuits? Another inequity between the sexes.
So, there I was, a blob in a shorty suit, fat squishing out above and below the line of the material on my thighs. Just great. (My thighs are one of the banes of my existence, anyway, but encased in neoprene..... run. Run for the hills. Whatever you do, don't look back.) And this damn boat seemed to have a life of it's own. I could not make the thing listen to me. It brought to mind a family vacation to Belize, in which my daughter and I went tubing down a river in the rain forest, got separated from the rest of our party, got stuck on some rocks in a swiftly moving current, and had to be rescued. Our rescuer was the incredibly handsome guide, and we couldn't even enjoy him helping us because we were so embarrassed that we actually had to be rescued. AND we ripped open one of the tubes.
My very helpful date, no doubt starstruck by my grace and beauty, kept barking out commands.
"Windward! You're supposed to turn into the wind! No! Upwind! The other way!"
Ever obedient, and gifted with a stellar sense of direction and knowing right from left, I turned downwind. That's Leeward. I tipped that damn boat completely over.
It was quite cold.
At least I can swim well. And laugh like no one's business. My date, he didn't have a very good sense of humor about the whole thing.
That was the last date I ever had with that guy, but really, I know the truth. It was the neoprene that ruined it all for me.
I admit it, I have two black thumbs, and my fingers and palms are pretty black as well. Most of my plants are fakes. I have two live plants, outside in pots. One is a Christmas Cactus, the other is a Jade Plant. They belonged to my mother, and I've had them both for twenty years, and they are still alive. In fact, when I moved, I transplanted them into bigger pots, and not only did they survive, they thrived! Considering you have to be a hardy plant to survive my talents, I feel I've done well, with no real effort. This morning I discovered why they are thriving.
My neighbor waters them regularly.
I caught her in the act. She is a lovely woman, and she twinkled at me as I thanked her. "Oh,"
she said. "Not a problem! I know you're busy."
Succulents and Cacti need water. Who knew?
I crave water, myself- I love to swim, and I love to be out on the water. Any kind- lake, ocean, pond, river, whatever I can get.
I had a date once who decided that I should learn to sail one of those one-man sailboats. Off we went to a local lake. The water was a bit chilly, so we put on wetsuits.
Really, is there anything less flattering than neoprene? The thicker suits, the kind you wear for scuba, they at least hide everything, but the thinner ones, made for swimming and surfing and kayaking, just accentuate every single bump, wrinkle and flesh-fold. You feel like a sausage, squeezed into casing, all your fat squishing out above and below. Not attractive. Why is it that men, on the other hand, look okay in their wetsuits? Another inequity between the sexes.
So, there I was, a blob in a shorty suit, fat squishing out above and below the line of the material on my thighs. Just great. (My thighs are one of the banes of my existence, anyway, but encased in neoprene..... run. Run for the hills. Whatever you do, don't look back.) And this damn boat seemed to have a life of it's own. I could not make the thing listen to me. It brought to mind a family vacation to Belize, in which my daughter and I went tubing down a river in the rain forest, got separated from the rest of our party, got stuck on some rocks in a swiftly moving current, and had to be rescued. Our rescuer was the incredibly handsome guide, and we couldn't even enjoy him helping us because we were so embarrassed that we actually had to be rescued. AND we ripped open one of the tubes.
My very helpful date, no doubt starstruck by my grace and beauty, kept barking out commands.
"Windward! You're supposed to turn into the wind! No! Upwind! The other way!"
Ever obedient, and gifted with a stellar sense of direction and knowing right from left, I turned downwind. That's Leeward. I tipped that damn boat completely over.
It was quite cold.
At least I can swim well. And laugh like no one's business. My date, he didn't have a very good sense of humor about the whole thing.
That was the last date I ever had with that guy, but really, I know the truth. It was the neoprene that ruined it all for me.
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