Stuff

Yesterday was my wedding anniversary. I spent some of the day outside in my garden, which is enormously therapeutic. I've got flowers and herbs for the most part, but also watermelon seedlings and a single pumpkin (courtesy of Boy). I'm always moving something, or weeding, or having a new idea for landscaping. I get very excited about it all - nevertheless, I truly hope we'll be leaving this house soon, and moving the Tulsa. There is a language immersion school there called Eisenhower that I want Boy to go to - preferably in French, but I'll take what I can get. I think it would be ideal, and I want him to have everything. The main idea is that he grow up to be a good person whom it doesn't hurt to be in the world. My personal method? I confess, I'm not entirely in-tune to reality. Anyway, I would also like for him to learn to speak several languages, go to university (preferably as far as possible), to be involved in sports, &c. After all, the improvement of the mind doesn't do much if the body is not in good shape, too - I should know. Another reason to move to Tulsa? I grew up there, and know it's a great city. It's not as spread out as Oklahoma City, for one, and for another, they're really making advancements, like adding bike paths and sidewalks. There's always something to do, and my best friend lives there.

Weather

It's totally getting warm - finally. It's going to be eighty tomorrow, and I've got yellow, white and purple pansies and some lovely daisies - yellow, with a purple center. Also, there's red geraniums and sage and feverfew and thyme and primrose and sweet peas and some seeds I've planted but forgot. I've interspersed marigolds throughout the whole thing, because something is eating my pansies already. Everything (except the geraniums and primroses) is yellow and purple for some reason, but it just sort of happened. The sweet peas will be pink.
I'm very excited about the front garden, because it's so lovely to see everything coming up - the chrysanthemum from last year, and the tulips and daffodils. The back garden will have veg - everything from lettuce to tomato to courgette. It'll be great, and the grocery bill will be minimal. Yay!

Himself Loves Me

I've been quite sick for about three days, and am very VERY slowly returning to better. Nevertheless, I am still miserable and kept awake all night because I cannot breathe. I have tried spoonfuls of honey, honey and vinegar and cayenne... olive oil and lavender and lemon... anyhow, lots of things, the more outlandish, the better. I've scarcely eaten because when I cough, it makes me sick, and I've been frozen for ages. The point: my darling, dearest husband went out (voluntarily) to the pharmacy down the road and pulled out every bottle of NyQuil until he found the kind with pseudoephedrine. The pharmacist insisted that there was no such thing, as during the USA Patriot Act, it became illegal to obtain products containing pseudoephedrine without identification. The purpose of this is to limit sales of said product, which is an ingredient in methamphetamine (aka speed). Of course, it's impossible to reduce NyQuil to the component ingredient in order to make it, but.... well, the government will curtail our activities at the slightest opportunities.
So, since Himself is an ardent Libertarian and also feels that a driver's license should not be used as identification (more on that another time), he will not take pseudoephedrine, despite it's miracle drug status. Or he won't, unless I buy it... with my license. But because I was sick, he actually did show his license in order to buy the coveted NyQuil. He adores me.

Kniitting

My current knit project is an adorable little pinafore dress from knitty, called Anouk. I've got chocolate brown yarn for the trim and bright pink for the rest of it. I haven't decided for the pockets yet. I think it's perfect, since, as the intro says, the side-tabs can be lengthened to eventually make a tunic out of the dress.
I've started three time now... and argh! It's meant to have 71 stitches cast on, but I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong - I keep ending up with k1p1 ribbing instead of seed stitch.
Nevertheless, once I get started, I'm sure it will be adorable.

TRASH

One of the mundane aspects of being a grown-up is that we have to take the trash out to the kerb every week. This means, of course, that when the trash pickup is too fecking lazy to navigate the turns of a cul-de-sac*, and leaves a note on the car (IN THE DRIVEWAY) saying that they can't get around it, that I am obliged to call the service center.
Naturally, the service center has the exclusive contract with the city, so their priority isn't customer service. When I tried to explain, the woman on the other end of the line interrupted me several times and was really just inexcusably rude. When I finally managed to get my message across, she told me to move my can. I said I would, but where should it go? She wanted to know which side of the street I would put it on. I explained to her that we live. in. a. cul-de-sac. It has a large 'island' in the center, which only complicates the situation. If I say "the right side", that could be anywhere. Before I finished my explanation, I was cut off again. She said she'd call a supervisor, so I said fine, and hung up on her.
When I calmed down, I called back, and managed to get someone else (thank G-d). She was more reasonable. I explained that I hadn't had my trash picked up for what was now the fourth week in a row; I'd assumed it had been the ice, then Christmas, then New Year's Day. I told her that I needed a second city-approved can, at no charge, even though we did not need it - just in case this should happen again. She agreed to this, and promised a supervisor would call me.
Now we'll see. Between this and the crazy neighbor**, I'd guess this is not going to work out very well.

* sort of like a blind alley, but a circle, instead.
** the neighbour who thinks she can dictate where I park in the street (when I do), and how long, and whether I can stack my flowerpots beside the terrace in the winter, and whether my child can ride his bicycle in the road. She also seems to think that she can tell me that I have to rake my garden when she wants me to. Naturally, I don't have to rake it at all. :)