Life

As sometimes happens, life has gotten in the way of blogging. I have many balls in the air right now and I'm not a great juggler. So instead of trying to be a great writer, I'll sum life up in bullet/photo form as I've seen done around the blogosphere:

• My mom finally got her cast off her leg yesterday. Her surgery was February 8th. And she still managed to attend the Saint Patrick's Day parade in NYC and grace the presence of many New York news shows with her photograph. For example:

She showed her Irish spirit despite her age (she'd kill me if I told you but it rhymes with eleventy-schmoo) and her cast than most - and I'm proud of her! (Even though she subjected me to years of Irish Step Dancing as a child).

• My dog has recently started peeing all over the house, and most often, in his own bed.  This goes against everything I've heard about dogs and where they'll relieve themselves...so I'm hoping that he has some sort of minor infection and that he's not entering his rebellious teenage years already.
• In other news, my husband pulled this out of his mouth the other day:

What is that you ask? IT'S A SQUIRREL FOOT! (Paw? I don't know). Anyway, the poor guy is at the vet as we speak getting some tests run since perhaps it's not in his best interest to, ya' know, eat rotting rodent meat.

• While the rest of the county was celebrating or tearing their gamrets at the passage of the Health Care Reform act, I was celebrating an historical moment all of my own - as I was watching CNN my husband inquired from the other room, "Where do we keep the vacuum cleaner?" I - was shocked to say the least. (No, not at the actual fact he didn't know where we kept the vacuum - that he actually cared where it was, as if to use it!). He proceeded to then vacuum the entire couch and condition the leather. I have photographic evidence yo':

Yes, the picture is kind of blurry. It's to take a picture with you Blackberry from a distance when you are lying in bed eating bon-bons.

• I bought Jack a new toy - a stuffed duck. It's fuzzy and he liked it:

He then proceed to mistake the fuzzy texture of my fake Uggs and my slippers for his beloved Quacky and they are now R.I.P. (Really, isn't one of the beauties of fake Uggs/Fuggs that you can buy a new pair every year?).

• My husband spent the majority of last weekend on the couch with a heating pad strapped to his back. FROM WEEDING! The boy is obsessed with his lawn. We raced to get some weed-n-feed down before some major storms hit last night and we're crossing our fingers that the lush green lawn that was prsent when we bought the house will make a reappearance. Otherwise, I suspect the neighbors will laugh at our expense. (And we'll deserve it).

Weeds

When we moved into our new home last July, the lawn was lush and thick and green and the envy of our neighborhood. In fact, one of the main reasons that we loved the house was the large lot filled with green grass.

But thanks to a horrendous drought AND our inexperience with this type of lawn, we mistook the green lusciousness that recently sprouted for a harbinger of spring and good times to come.

Not so much.  I am the Nancy Botwin version of the kind of weed that you can't smoke and/or make money from.

I do NOT look like the mistress of ficticious weed that we all know and love.

My beloved husband has, for the past two weeks, been on his hands and knees HAND WEEDING our over almost 3/4 acre lot. I do not share his love/obsession with the green stuff.  It makes me itch just to look at it.  But the guilt got to me and today I offered help.

And naturally, what was in my fourth handful of weeds?  A SNAKE.

Let's just say that if Showtime every tried to do my version of weeds, the logo would look like this:

I have a lovely dinner date planned tonight with two of my favorite ladies....I just hope I can get the stench of onion grass out of my hair.