You may hear some hysterical screeching from the North.

May 23, 2009 at 12:10 AM | Posted in Adventures in S-Land | Leave a comment
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Tomorrow, I am releasing 1500 ladybugs into my garden. 

I love ladybugs journeying picturesquely on a leaf.  I appreciate that they eat aphids and plant mites and other icky things.  I know it is good to avoid using pesticides when possible.  I’m down with all of that.  The problem here is that I can’t figure out how I am going to open a container that is craaaaawling with ladybugs which are, after all, BUGS. 

I’m not so good with bugs.

I have this horrific vision of opening the ladybug jail and having all the ladybugs come out in search of a hug for their emancipator.  Like, I’ll be standing there, frozen, covered in red beetles.  This is the making of a horror movie. 

The best plan of action here seems to be to open the ladybug jail, and then run in the opposite direction.  Maybe I’ll take a leaf from the book of bank robbing and have the car running with the door ajar.  Ladybugs can’t catch The Black Thing, can they? 

This is where you all call me a chicken wuss and I pretend not to hear you.


The Black Thing

March 11, 2009 at 9:50 AM | Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

I need to decide what to do with The Black Thing.  Purchasing The Black Thing was a decision based on the fact that I teach in a school located in an area called the Hillside which, reasonably, has lots of hills and not great road maintenance.  I live in Alaska.  It snows a lot.  Also, I am a chicken wuss when it comes to ice and snow on roads despite the fact that I have driven icy and snowy roads the entire thirteen years that I’ve been driving.  The Black Thing was a sensible purchase.  It became a vital purchase when I decided to become the lady on the hill, living in a house reached only by a 45 degree angle driveway of pure evil in March when ice glazes the angle and creates the Ramp of Death.

But, gas prices are making it tough to own The Black Thing.  So, I need to sell it or become a genius energy engineer who invents a fuel compatible with the combustion engine used to a steady diet of gasoline.  I’m thinking that there is plenty of worthless stuff lying around that could be alchemy gasoline fodder.  Like brussel sprouts!  I know one person who likes brussel sprouts, and I’m sure he’d like to make a sacrifice for my financial happiness seeing as how he is my younger brother and lives to see me smile (actually, he lives to accumulate random possessions which he then squirrels away in my basement, thereby cutting into my square footage).  Brussel sprouts stink, which means that they obviously have some chemicals in common with gasoline which also stinks.  I’m pretty sure this is going to work.

In case it doesn’t though, my back-up plan is to become a kazillionaire and not care about the cost of things.  I will be one of those cool, benevolent kazillionaires who renovates old playgrounds for communities and builds senior centers with lots of windows and well-paid staff members who are always nice to the old ladies and gentlemen.  And I will still get to drive The Black Thing.  Which I own.  Every bolt.

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