Category — Humor

We’ve been watching Heather and Justin’s border collie, Bruno, the last few weekends.  He fits in nicely with our dogs.  Riggs isn’t quite sure about him, he wants to move into middle child while Bruno is visiting and Bruno kinda wants that spot.  So there is a lot of pouting on Riggs part.  Elvis plays with Bruno like a little school girl, they roll around on the floor together mouthing each other. Elvis knows he’s alpha dog and Bruno doesn’t challenge him.

I thought a lot about what this post would look like, what I would say, how excited I would be.  But this morning, sitting over coffee at the kitchen table, this is all I want to write:  I will pause amidst all the chaos of moving and be thankful for the job Eric has accepted.  I will take a second before I freak out about finding myself a job (which I’ve been doing, hard core) and be happy that this huge hurdle has been crossed, ending, depending on how you look at it, two years of searching.

We are surrounded by 6 thousand boxes, too many family members, and clutter galore…but none of those things are worth complaining about. Because I have it all in perspective.  For once.

Overall, I consider myself a frugal person. It’s easy for me to save money. I can go to the mall and not buy anything 5 times in a row. I think about big purchases forever before I commit and I fantasize about paying off (our relatively low) credit card balances. We are good with money. No problem there.

Recently, I have been obsessed with buying a house and everything that comes with it. I’ve been pouring over do it yourself projects, ways to save money on utility bills, and which art to hang where. The one thing I can’t manage with any level of success? Keeping houseplants alive. A couple of weeks ago, I was in our apartment in St Cloud making something in the oven and I left my little, resilient house plant that I’ve managed to keep alive for a year (statistically amazing for me) too close to the back of the stove, where the heat comes out, and I fried it. Not pretty, the death of my house plant.

The thing is, I love having a plant or two around the house just for something living and green. I think it’s healthy. Problem is, mine end up dead and brown. Or, on fire, apparently.

I was on Life Hacker today and came across this article about maintaining house plants. Check out the site, it’s full of everyday-life-related-awesomeness.

Keep a House Plant Alive

By Kevin Purdy

The step titles might feel a little elementary school, but growerman gives just enough depth on sunlight, watering, soil, containers, and other necessities that you’ll probably walk away a bit smarter. To find that illusive balance between proper watering and drowning your plants, for instance, try his simple soil gauge:

A good way to accurately and efficiently find out when your plant needs more water is to keep an eye on the soil. When the soil looks dry, just stick you finger in it. If the soil is dry in the first couple centimeters, is it probably time to give the plant more water. If your finger comes up with a little water on it, your plant is probably fine.

I water my plants every Sunday, unless they need water earlier….

Inspired to start picking out some plants? Consider three plants that give you better indoor air and, as growerman suggests, supplement any plants that don’t get South-facing sunlight with LED light spikes.

Dooce is a ridiculously awesome blog that I read.  Love, love her and her family.  She’s a great writer.  I am sharing the link with you because you have to read the post from today, entitled, “The Secret to our Clean Floors”.

It’s a little glimpse into my future.

PS- She is also a great photographer.

Do you ever think about all the random names that you call your animals? I was talking to Riggs yesterday, about eating bird seeds in the yard…and about how that makes him sick…and about how I’m not going to clean it up, and addressed him as, “Mr. Bot”.  Absolutely no relation to his real name.

We started calling him “Bot” as a baby because he kind of moved around like a robot.  That’s turned into Bot Man, Mr. Riggs Bot, Bot Face, and so on.  Andrea started calling him “Rigatoni”. Like the pasta. That stuck too.  I call him Brown Dog a lot too.  Just in case he isn’t confused enough with all the other titles.

Elvis is known as “Black Dog”.  Or L-Face.  Or Mr. Elvis (he’s very distinguished).  Or my favorite, “Punk”.  He really is a punk.  The funny thing about the whole thing is that they really do answer to most all of these names.