Magical blog with entries about my life

Garden supplies are any items or materials needed to create, maintain and enhance a garden. Gardeners need a wide range of supplies to create beautiful gardens. For this reason, gardeners need to buy quality garden supplies to ensure that their gardens look their best. Buying quality garden supplies is essential if you want your garden to look beautiful and last a long time. However, you must know what to look for when you shop for quality garden supplies. Knowing what to look for when you shop for quality garden supplies makes the process much easier.incerity

There are many types of quality garden supplies. A good way to determine what type of quality garden supply you need is to first determine the size of your garden. If you have a small yard, you will only need a small quantity of quality garden supplies. Conversely, if you have a large yard, you will need a large quantity of quality garden supplies. Knowing the size of your garden will help you determine what quantity and quality of quality garden supplies you need. Once you know the size of your garden, you can find the right quality and quantity of quality garden supplies to meet your needs. Choosing quality garden supplies is essential if you want your garden to last long and look beautiful. For people who speak French.

Quality garden supplies can be broken down into two categories: specialty and general. Specialty quality garden supplies are supplies that are specific to a certain gardening activity. For example, you would need specialty quality garden supplies if you were going to plant seeds in a garden bed. You would also need specialty quality garden supplies if you were going to set up a greenhouse in your garden. There are many different specialty quality garden supplies, and knowing which supplies you need is essential.

On the other hand, general quality garden supplies are supplies that are useful in all gardening activities. For example, you would need general quality garden supplies if you were going to clean your garden. You would also need general quality garden supplies if you were going to plant new plants in your garden. There are many different general quality garden supplies, and knowing which supplies you need is essential. Knowing what supplies you need will help you find quality garden supplies that are right for your needs.

Most garden supply shops have a much larger variety of quality garden supplies than online stores. This is because they have a much larger physical location where they can display their products. Online stores do not have the same amount of space to display their products. Consequently, online stores must choose what to display and what not to display. This means that online stores must have a much narrower range of quality garden supplies than garden supply shops.

Last night I did what all women of a certain age do when they find themselves newly single and free! free! on a Friday night. I went out looking for love in a yarn shop. And that my friends is what we call looking for love in all the right places. Especially if it is mohair.

And love costs. It is expensive. I'm just saying.

For some time now I have been trying to hook up with Barbara (she has an internets handle, like on CB radio: CatBookMom) and knit the night away at Unwind. They have the sort of shop that feels homey and airy and open, even to sweaty weirdoes. (That's me, not Barbara.) And we met up and she was so kind, so warm, you feel like you have known her for a hundred and twelve years. And I met Cecily and Karen, who both work at the shop, and I'm kind of in awe of them both. They just have that easy way with people, maybe because they talk to people all day, and you just feel like you can ask dumb questions and no one thinks anything of it.

All in all a good night. I took pictures but my Internets are too damn slow to post them now. I'm a mite spoiled.

Back in the day, I used to spend Friday nights hoping Mr. X would want to go to the movies, or spend time with me, and I would end up making dinner, and watching TV and being a homebody. Now, Post-X, I am actually leaving my house and it's not because I yearn to stand awkwardly at a bar and make small talk with a strange man younger and cuter than me who also says "dude" every fifth word.

1. One of the problems with being an early riser is that you tend to eat breakfast at an obscenely early hour. So by 9:30 in the morning you're hungry and want to gnaw on your own arm. Today I brought a yogurt as a midmorning snack because yesterday I ate my lunch at 10 a.m. I think maybe later today I'll have a blue plate special and yell at some kids to get off my lawn.

2. Which remids me ... the other day I couldn't remember my own zipcode. You know how you'll be getting gas at the filling station and you can pay with your ATM/visa card? As an added security level, these machines now ask you to enter your zipcode. I completely drew a blank.

I don't know if this is a sign of early onset Alzheimer's or just my general weirdness as a person. I am chalking it up to basic flakiness but still kind of worried my brain might be going south already. I now repeat my own zipcode over and over in my head sometimes. Probably I need medication.

3. Speaking of remembering things. Now I remember why I don't take the 6:45 a.m. bus. For one thing it gets me into work a little late (now that is sad, really) and for another thing, there is a man on that bus who smells like vinegar. He has an unusual and very, VERY strong foul vinegar-body-odor smell. It's not just me who's noticed it, either, I've heard other people remark about the smell after he exits the bus. People sometimes move to another seat if he sits close to them. But I have a tragically overdeveloped sense of smell (to make up for my poor eyesight, perhaps?) and some odors make me feel nauseated or give me a headache. This guy's B.O. actually makes my eyes water, and it's a scent that lingers in the bus even after he's long gone.

Hello! I have been having one of those weeks (plural) where even though a person may love their family and friends and job and adore their coworkers and want to come in each morning with group hugs and cheers of Cumbaya and happy thoughts about Los Angelenos and traffic and life in general, you maybe -- just maybe -- for a few days want to vigorously staple the hand of the next person who comes near you.

Hi! I am grumpy!

And so there has not been a lot of time for funny har-har stories and knitting tutorials which take time and patience and how can I do that when I have one hand always on my stapler, ready and waiting for you to CROSS ME. Which I know you are JUST ABOUT TO DO.

So that is why I am very fortunate and also lucky to have folks ask me questions because then I did not have to sit down and face a blank screen while I try to write something coherent while also planning out my World Domination Plan Using Weapons Of Mass Stapling.

These are some questions I have been asked recently, and the answers, and if you have more burning questions just ask away in the comments (because you will soon understand about the email problem) and I will answer what I can tomorrow, except if it's a grumpy question and then I will probably try to staple you to something.

Do not ask me why on earth I thought these videos would be interesting to anyone, and also can I add that folks on the bus must have seen me do some mighty strange things in our time together because not one passenger batted an eye when I whipped out my camera and video captured the bus ... driving. In traffic. Really, when I told you it was boring I was kind of being generous in praise.

But this boringness is to offset the WHITE TRASH DRAMA MAGNET that is me, yours truly. Do you have time for the tee tiniest story before I show you the boringest videos?

Last night I went on a d-a-t-e and it was actually real nice, we had a nice time, he's got potential so ya'll don't ask me questions and jinx it because I will tell you nothing, nothing! Except that he opened doors for me and took me on a proper date so you know. It was nice. I came home pleased as pie.

So I am on the phone deconstructing said date and basking in ensuing nice happy warm feeling with one Jennifer, who I swear knows all my secrets and must never be allowed to fall into the hands of enemy bloggers. It would be bad. And we are chitchatting as we do (it sounds like this: Jen says, "And I can't believe how the Dyson really does pick up more than other vacuum cleaners, and I emptied the canister and now I realize why you vacuum so much..." and I say, "He's nice. Do you think I am too crazy and drive off nice men?" Jen: "You are not crazy, crazylady. Of course not. Then I vacuumed again, I think the level of clean is at an all-time high..." Me: "Thank God you finally bought a Dyson, oh I don't think he loves and adores cats. By the way, I kind of didn't let him on to the plural nature of the herd members..." Jen: "That's best for now." Unison: "Thank God for Dyson.")

And she and I are chitchatting in this manner, which is to say we have two different conversations happening at the same time, and then someone shuffles up to my front door AT MIDNIGHT. Drunker than a skunk. Smoking a Marlboro red with the ash about sixteen feet long. AT MIDNIGHT.

It's happy-happy shiny smiley land here in the Valley, because it's morning and it's a lovely Sunday and OH MY GOD IT IS NOT HOT. Seriously. It's all people have talked about. I was at the 7-11 this morning for coffee, and then the gas station and then the grocery because I am somewhat certifiably insane and get up at 4:45 a.m. on Sunday mornings and WAIT for things to open (well, of course the 7-11 is open, but it's too weird to arrive there before 6 a.m. unless you're on a beer run for a party that is going VERY well, know what I mean?) and HOLY CRAP is this turning into one long sentence, but suffice it to say every place I visited this morning people have remarked upon how AWESOME the weather is because we are not being baked in the scorching armpit of hell.

Hi ya'll! I had a lot of coffee!

And really, the weather is so beautiful this morning. I have ancient windows on my house that you crank open with this handle and I am so technologically challenged that anything with moving parts is game for breakage, it's kind of a gift, really, I mean I am SO TALENTED in this way, and yet even the window in the office cranked open today without complaint which probably means I should go buy a lottery ticket right now. Because I am feeling LUCKY, darlin.

And I do thank ya'll for the kind words and wishes for my family! If I win the lottery I'm so taking all ya'll out for ribs and beer. And, well, probably truth be told we'll have to stop by the 7-11, too. Ya'll know.

Hi ya'll!

I won't be doing horoscopes this month, I am so sorry! There's just all kinds of crazy going on over here. My grandma, who is just a real hoot, ya'll would love her, anyway, she has had a stroke and my mom is flying out and then there was this whole brief period of insanity when I thought I should rent a car and bring Roy with me down to Orange County because ya'll know I have this CAT who has many fancy medications and so on, and also I have to watch him like a hawk for signs of paltryness (is it any wonder I have not had children? I would be that mom who does background checks on the schoolteachers and generally makes the other parents nervous).

But luckily, cooler heads prevailed and now Jennifer is taking care of the herd including the high-maintenance one because at some point I realized, hello, I am driving down to meet my mom at the airport with: one cat, all his medication, a cat box, food, water, cat toys, the special blankie, my laptop, various baskets, beds, etc., MY DYSON (!!!!) (because I didn't want him to shed at my grandma's house while she's away, and who knows what sort of vacuum she has, right?) and then it dawned on me that one cannot move one's entire home to Orange County just because one is a control freak and refuses to let anyone out of her sight, as if proximity alone could stave off evil. As if one can control anything, really.

One must trust that there is a limit to "being colorful" and one does not want to cross into "downright scary what with the cat thing and the crying and the cabernet and all" and just hope it all works out. Because really. It's kind of a fine line.

Please think good thoughts for us! And my grandma, who first taught me how to make a mimosa, and my whole crazy family, and my mom who was so sweet she didn't even say a word when I first proposed that I would meet her at the airport with both my cat and my Dyson.

Today we have Santa Anas in Los Angeles. Santa Ana winds are hot and dry and they blow all around the city and make us feel like we have real weather now and then. The excitement is disproportional to its real significance, but hey, we're the same people who forget how to drive when it rains. I think we get so excited by little atmospheric things like wind because we aren't privy to the tornadoes and hurricanes and violent thunderstorms that batter the rest of the country. We just sit here in a pile of our own pollution and expect every single day to be sunny and mid 70s. So when we get some strong winds we're just wacky, they even close freeways in the canyons. Los Angeles has wind! Film footage at eleven!

And aside from the whole little problem of "Oh yeah the whole city might burn to the ground" and "my eyes are red from the junk in the air" I do love the Santa Anas. Yesterday when I walked outside midday, the palm trees were rustling and it made me feel restless and happy all at the same time. Of course, that could have been because it was Tragic Laundry Thursday and I wasn't wearing pantyhose. Gives new meaning to "flapping in the breeze."

No reason for this picture, just wanted to say hi ya'll!

Many people are interested in how to buy a bargain online, and today it's possible to get the best deals and prices on products online. After all, why pay $20 for something you can get for $10 on another website? That's why it's so important to compare purchase prices, because it can save you $50 or more a year in total, depending on the number of purchases you make. Of course, comparing prices on items can be time-consuming. But there are special sites that help you compare the cost of a product at several online stores in one place. So, instead of visiting ten different stores, you can view and compare prices on one site. Below I will discuss the main benefits of comparing prices, and give some useful tips for comparing purchases. By using them, you can be sure that you will always get the best deals when shopping online.

Advantages of using price comparison sites

Many users have already appreciated, services like Google shopping and consider them the best because they have the following qualities:

•     A wide selection of retailers and product categories;


•     easy-to-use platform with navigation;

Ikea had a big tax-free shopping event over the weekend, so you know where I was bright and early Saturday morning:

Hello, crowds!

Ikea Burbank was PACKED. You'd have thought they were giving crack away with the Billy bookcases, and although every cash register was open, the lines were still 15 people deep. There was also a lot of sneezing. (Have you noticed the amount of sneezing in public these days? Shameful. Germs! Germs!) but I persevered, all for my TAX FREE Ikea stuff that I spent the rest of the weekend putting together. ("Jennifer, does this sexless little Swedish drawing of a person look like he/she is putting the rolly thingies on the front or the back?") ("I am so confused. Can't someone just bring me a drink? This instruction manual will make a good coaster.") ("Ya'll, I'm tired. Ikea just wore me out.")

That's me and my dad when I was about six years old. That was in June, and I remember I was fascinated by his shiny wristwatch, and I loved it so much, and my dad tried to teach me how to tell time but I was a slow study. The concept of breaking a whole big day into tiny hours and seconds and so on was beyond my already crazy six-year-old mind.
That year for Christmas -- and for the next ten years or so -- my dad would buy me a lovely wristwatch, wrap it up and put it under the tree. Come Christmas morning, I'd wear it proudly for about four hours, whereupon it would promptly break. Dad was baffled the first year, suspicious the second, and downright accusatory the third. He quizzed me: "Are you washing your hands WHILE wearing the watch?" (Even then I was a handwasher. At age six, people.) "Did you take a bath with it on?" "Did you smash it? Step on it? Whack it on something?"
I have no idea what he thought I was doing to kill time (hah hah!! KILL time!!) but it irked him enough to stop buying me wristwatches. My parents accepted their fate as Cursed With A Daughter Who Is Oblivious To Time. And for the most part I bumbled along happily, unaware of time and not really very stressed out about it.
Then came junior high. In the 7th grade, Swatch watches were THE COOLEST THING EVER AND I WILL DIE IF I DO NOT HAVE THE PINK ONE THAT IS SCENTED I WILL DIE. DIE! NOW. Christmas rolled around that year, and I was all grown up, much more responsible, able to blind young children with my shiny new braces. So my dad caved in. Christmas brought with it a variety of acid-wash denim items and the pink Swatch Watch of my dreams.
But nothing had changed in the wristwatch department. My scented Swatch, much adored, ran smoothly for four hours tick-tock tick-tock, then silence. Death. It was a mystery. I cried.

In my bio I joke about knitting hats that don’t fit anyone. You may have thought I was joking; I was not.

Below is photographic evidence (Exhibit A) of two (2) hats I knitted last year. These hats are known as “Goldilocks Hats.”

Hat #1 was my first effort. By adding extra stitches, I was hoping to modify the pattern enough to successfully accommodate Jason’s huge noggin. Even with my casual adjustments, the hat was still quite, um, tiny. Tiny enough that Jason could easily propel the hat off his head by squinting his eyes or wriggling his eyebrows. Also, there was a giant hole in the top of the hat, allegedly due to a certain someone’s lack of seaming ability.

Hat #2 was modified even further by adding even more stitches. So many stitches, in fact, that it was way too big. And although I had figured out how to close the gaping hole at the top, my seaming skills still appeared to belong to a spastic monkey.

Of course, now that I finally learned how to create an invisible seam, I haven’t knitted a hat since.