Captain’s Log 5,876
I felt like a farmer this morning. I hopped out of bed and started taking care of my “farm.” I farm flowers, a fruit tree, and birds. I never kill or eat anything I raise. Except lemons – eat them but don’t kill them. I can eat lemons because they don’t fit the criteria for me eating stuff. I don’t eat anything with a mother, a face, or an asshole. Lemons don’t have faces or assholes, but I think their pollinated flowers could be considered mothers in a non-scientific kind of way. If that’s true, bees are lemon daddies who move the pollen around. It’s just so complicated. I eat lemons.
I just let it all be. I suppose there are people who might eat hummingbirds, and I would put them into the lower levels of Dante’s hell for that. And I know people hunt and kill doves. It’s a big deal in Kansas. Doves are so trusting and so stupid you can almost walk up to them and command them to surrender, but I don’t. I always ask them nicely to move away from the feeder so I can fill everything up for another successful day in paradise. I usually have to ask twice. Nicely.
I fell asleep on the sofa last night and woke up to an infomercial about hunting knives. All righty then. I had access to hunting knives once upon a time – before I evaluated what was really important in my life. Now, I carry a Swiss army knife that I use mostly for geocaching stuff and slicing up cheese in the wilderness. There isn’t a lot of call for wilderness cheese slicing, so it doesn’t get used much. I used it a lot more when I used to sail regularly. But now, it lives in my purse and I always hope I take it out and leave it at home when I go through TSA. So far so good on that.
Back to the farm. Farmers have farmer shoes. They are necessary. These are mine. I’ve had them 6-7 years now and they are ugly as sin. Do I care? I was going for something neutral so I could blend in with crowds at the mall.
I paid more for the ugly yellow strap things. Are those cool or what? Too bad they defeat the point of going undercover.
Well, yeah. Stuff like this makes me cry. Said I never.
Like I said, the garden is growing and growing. And I love it. My mother hated plants and flowers and we are so very different (except for the quirky sense of humor). She always told me I was conceived when she took a trip with the aliens when they paid a visit to the ball field behind the house. I am beginning to think she was right.
A nicely overgrown planter box replete with skeleton flamingos. And twinkle star lights.
My homage to Laugh In. If this doesn’t make sense, we live on different planets.
It’s also Clean Sheets Day at Casa de Pirate. I think it’s important to celebrate events like that. I know how much I will love it when I fall into bed in 12 hours.