Asparagus tree

I'd be willing to bet that this is one of the only asparagus tree posts on the entire internet. And it will be about the asparagus tree.

It probably won't be very interesting, but it'll be about the asparagus tree.

Today's pointless photo is of my father's asparagus tree.Not the greatest picture, true, but I wanted to make sure that I had a shot of it before it completely goes limp with the frost.

In case anyone's wondering, that's a pretty average sized sunflower next to the asparagus tree. That should give you a sense of scale, at least.

So what's an asparagus tree? Oh, it's just happy asparagus, that's all.

You see, my dad doesn't care for asparagus too much. The asparagus was planted when my mother was still alive, and it's just basically been there since. When Mom was around it wasn't producing more than enough for just a taste or too, but in recent years? It's kind of got ridiculous. Just like the rhubarb.

Hang on. Let me see if I can find the rhubarb. I didn't take a picture of it this year, but I know I posted one of last year's rhubarb tree... Ok, here it is. And it looked much the same this year until Dad hacked it down.

So what's with the killer rhubarb and the asparagus tree? Well, we've had a couple of unusually wet years in a row, and that plus the age of the plants has given them the opportunity of establishing really, really good root systems, apparently. As a result they're both very vigorous growers now, and since they don't get used as fast as they grow you end up with inadvertent trees.

Um... the end?

I told you that this wouldn't be very interesting, didn't I? Looks like I was right, then. Ah well. I'll try for interesting tomorrow.



I won't succeed, but I'll try...

So I got this car... oh, right.

I used that title already, didn't I?

Oh well. Here it is (the car, I mean), anyway. Not a great photo, but I'm too lazy to move the thing into better light just for a blog shot.

Colour? Carbon grey, officially. Model? Pontiac Vibe (otherwise known on the internet car forums, apparently, as why the hell did GM stop making this car?). Name?

It doesn't have one. It's a car.

I should elaborate a bit on the name thing, really. I named my first car very facetiously, because I'm pretty much not a car person and also not the type who would anthropomorphise a car. A car is a car is a car, and as long as it's working and reliable (and, erm, not completely homely. Ok, I can be as shallow as the next person) that's as far as my thoughts go about it. When someone asked me what I called my first car it got a name on the spur of the moment. I told him it was Maurice because it was a Cavalier. Cavalier...Chevalier... same word, different languages. A play on words rather than a name, I guess.

Now, I'll admit that my second car had an actual name, but it was entirely accidental. Again, I was asked what I was going to call it. Again, I thought it was a car and didn't need a name. I said that it was Moe, simply because that was part of the dealer's name. Moe the car.

Moe the car became Dirty Moe over the years. I can be a little bit neglectful of car washing on occasion.

The new car? Does have a wheel (four, even. Five, if you count the spare) (and the wheel might look vaguely familiar. See? There was a method to the silliness last week) but it doesn't have a name.

Yet.

Judging by my track record, it'll have one eventually.

I've had a few suggestions. Wheat says Neo or Keeanu, since it's a Matrix in disguise. I...don't think I could drive a Keeanu. The Ontario office says Molly, to which I said that I don't drive girl cars.

Actually, I hardly ever use feminine names for inanimate objects. I wonder why? Even my plants have male names.

And yes, I'm just as serious about naming plants as I am about naming cars.

So what do I think it should be called? I dunno. It'll come if it's going to, I guess. I toyed with calling it Lionel just to see who knew their jazz, but I suppose that's a little pretentious. For now, it's the car. Or the debt.

Good debt, though, if there is such a thing. It was time for a new car. Dirty Moe served his time, but after ten years I think all I'm going to miss about Dirty Moe is (ironically) its name.







Incidentally, would anyone out there in blogland be interested in buying a used Dirty Moe? I happen to know where you could find one...

You know what sucks?

When you're having a massive chocolate craving and all the bookstore at work has is "candy bars"

Candy bars are called candy bars instead of chocolate bars for a reason, folks. There's hardly any actual chocolate in them. Now? I have a sugar rush, but I still want chocolate.

Yeah, that worked well.

Anyway. This is just a quick post (a quick, complainy post) to get me back in the post groove in case I don't get around to making a real post tonight. Today's photo? Same cats as yesterday, obviously, but this time I let the flash do its work.

I kind of like the one in the dark better, to be honest.

But I'm weird that way.

So I got this car...

The photo, of course, is not of the car. It's of the cats. The reddish light is the camera's infrared sensor, because I got bored and covered up the flash to see what effect it would give.

Anyway. I got this car.

I've had it for a couple of days, actually, but it's been a busy week (busy, did I mention?) and the blog sort of fell by the wayside.

Um, that was a statement that I really didn't have to make, seeing as all you'd have to do is look back at the recent lack of posts to figure out that I haven't been posting.

Anyway. I got this car.

I will now answer what apparently are the two most important questions about the car, based on what my friends have asked me: it's dark grey, and it doesn't have a name yet.

Seriously, people. My first new car in ten years and people want to know if it has a name? I'm beginning to think that my priorities are wrong or something. I thought that people might like to know what model it is, or what size engine it has, or how it drives, but no. Colour and name.

Ah well.

I will, no doubt, be telling you more about the car as I get to know it better, but for now I should get back to work. Just thought I'd take a moment to let my two fans know that all the silly car references in the past few posts were, in fact, leading to something.

A question, in fact.

The question would go something like: who the hell decides to test-drive and buy a car in the same week that she's had to stay home from work because she's been too sick to function? The answer would be me, it seems.





Let's hope that I don't regret this car...

Still here...

It's just been a busy week.

I'll try to post an actual post post after my program's done this afternoon if I have time (and any sort of mood). If not? Well, tomorrow. Or the next day. Or sometime.

No, really.

Lack of posts of the next few days

Busy day today. Busy (and... big? I dunno) day tomorrow. This all equals no blog content for the next couple of days, as I imagine you figured out. See you when I can.



Incidentally, should a person be happy to be going into debt? I suppose it depends on the reason for the debt in the end, doesn't it.



Later.

Thud

That would be the sound of me hitting the blather wall.

I've tried to think of a blog post. Really I have. There hasn't even been the distraction of work (since this is a holiday) or internet radio (since I haven't had it on). I guess that after yesterday's lengthy ramble -- and later weirdness -- I'm just out, temporarily.

Besides, I can't deny the fact that I'm not over this latest bout of crud yet. I'm definitely feeling better and I might even have enough voice for tomorrow's two programs, but the energy level certainly isn't where I'd like it to be and the head's still full enough that I've been ending the last few days with headaches.

So... um...

Amaryllis?

This is the other one that's been flowering. Each of them is currently sending up second flower stocks, so even if the third one that might flower decides it's not worth it I'll have colour for a little while yet. That's kind of nice.

Yep.

You know, I really think that this is all I have today. Time to stop typing, then.







Yep.