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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2004-11-01 - 11:57 a.m. Solving problems through public urination I celebrated Halloween by reconstituting dried blood and spreading it everywhere with wild abandon. Wait � don�t call the cops. Let me back up. Mom I wail into the phone, We bought two flats of pansies Saturday intending to plant them on Sunday, when the misty, icky rain would�ve passed � and the evil deer ate them. Oh, dear. I even bought deer- repellant stuff, which we were going to spread around after planting, but the deer couldn�t even leave it alone one frickin� night. Oh, dear. I�m so sorry. Mom, please stop saying �deer�. It�s not very comforting just this minute. Mom switched to cheering me up by saying you�re supposed to pinch back pansies just after you plant to force them to spread, the deer just got there first by taking off the blossoms and upper leaves. Sanguine. I should try to be sanguine about this. And, if I was succeeding, I would write some lovely homily about how this is God�s way of arranging a surprise for me � because without the blossoms I only have the vaguest idea of which color pansies wound up in what decorative clump � but not so much with the sanguine. Roland looks up from drilling as I enter the shop. What�s up? I am sitting here to kill the twenty minutes till the reconstituted blood stops frothing. I swear, I have made the blood pudding from hell in the mop bucket. (At least keeping this diary is making me understand why Nia says Roland saved a perfect normal person by marrying me.) The deer-away is made of dried bovine and porcine blood plasma and smells awful. I�ve been in slaughterhouses that smelled better. You�re supposed to strain the lumpy-blood-pudding through cheesecloth and put it in a backpack sprayer and hose down all your plants, but, honestly, who owns a backpack sprayers? This is why Americans save Chinese soup containers. Apply an ice pick, and, viola, a shaker and strainer thingy all in one, which can be tossed out rather than cleaned. Use of ice pick v. satisfying when you�re pissed at the deer. In the end, our home now boasts decapitated pansies which (if you look closely) are covered in dark red drips. Lord, I hope this stuff sets into the leaves soon so the rain can wash this off. I�m not sure having a hedge that looks like it hosted a mass murder of tiny animals is an improvement over deer chewed greenery. This is why I�m joining BdeB�s campaign for solving your problems by public urination. If I can get a sufficient number of carnivores to apply pee to my garden, it will keep the deer away and avoid the bloody d�cor. (Disclaimer: I will *not* bail anyone out of a public indecency charge.) Don't laugh. My friend Ethel used to keep the deer out of her garden quite effectively with this approach. Very organic. Very practical. Of course, this is the same women who got my Girl Scout troop totally lost in the blue ridge forest in an summer rainstorm just for an adventure. She handed us the compass, the topo map and sat down happily on a soaking wet log awaiting our advice on how to get home. Bit of a nut, our Ethel. Lived in an octogan log cabin for the practical reasons you have more shelf space for books with eight walls. Crap. I�ve just legitimized Shaggy�s campaign for public urination. � � � 
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