You got some 'splainin' to do

Sunday night. The time is currently 2357. Or 11:57pm. Whichever floats your boat.

Normally...well...normally as in for the last two months exactly....this would not be a big deal. The being awake on a Sunday night at 2359 (11:59pm). Why?

Because I was unemployed.

My Monday mornings consisted of rolling out of bed with just enough time to pee, rub that crusty shit out of my eyes, put on pants, get the monkey ready for school, and roll out. Like a boss. Or baws. Whichever.

But this Monday morning? The one that's happening directly?

I gots me a job.

So why is it that it's 0002, and I'm awake? And not just awake. But flogging.

Oh holy hell my phone just corrected blogging to flogging.

Some parallels there maybe? Methinks yes.

Anyway. Blogging. From my phone even.

Because I can't sleeeeeeeep!

I'm not excited. No really. I'm not. I don't know what I'm walking into, why would I be excited? And I'm not nervous for the same reason.

Here's what I know:
I am going to be kick ass at this job.


But still...I'm awake. Blogging from my phone. In my bed. While the monkey snores next to me.


Now where did mommy put her special pills....

5.13.2011's.... Huh.

**Back story: the monkey was on the phone with her father, and mentioned that her Grandpa Larry had died, and was in Heaven with Jesus.  The following is the text exchange between him and I after the phone call ended**

Ex: Did someone die?  She said "papa and Lilly went to Jesus"
Me: Grandpa Larry. He died of cancer the day after Easter
Ex: I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences. Is she handling the loss okay?
Me:  It's hard for her to understand.  It's not tangible for her.  So she talks about it on occasion.  His picture is on my desk in the office, and she saw it while on the phone with you and thought she would bring it up.
Ex: Thanks for the info.  I wanted to be able to speak with her if she did ask questions.  Again, my condolences.
Me: We tell her he isn't sick any more because he's in Heaven with Jesus.  Same with a bunny that died at her daycare.  Miss Carol's bunny if it comes up as well.  Generally it's always brought up on the same conversation
Me: And now Grandpa Larry takes care of the bunny in Heaven

**This is where it gets weird**

Ex: Was there a duck also?
*crickets chirping
Me: Um. Not that I have heard...But sometimes she says her (invisible) baby chicken is dead...
Ex: Okay, maybe that was it.  She told me all about it being on the side of the road by your house and then with Jesus.  She said the stuffed animal, chick in the egg, you sent with her last time was to replace the dead one.
Me: I am cracking up right now.  I have no idea what that is supposed to mean...she got the baby chick in an egg for Easter... I think maybe she's just putting random thoughts together.  She's quite the little story teller.

So there you have it.  From dead cousins to dead chickens in one simple text exchange.

Also?  This is the most I have talked to the ex in text....well....ever?

So glad it could be about this.


Who's the Chuck Norris of gardening now?

Sprouts!  People!  We have sprouts!

I've been keeping my unemployed self busy the last week or so painting my office and getting it usable, which is another post in and of itself.

But first?  To quell the nay saying cries of "NO PICTURES NO HAPPEN."

On Saturday?  No.  Today is Saturday.  Or yesterday.  Whatever.  Not Saturday.  Guess it would have been Thursday?  Sure, we'll go with Thursday.

*Thursday* as I was breaking down my make shift office to move it into the actual office, I had to move my pellets of nothingness.  And after having spent two months of love and labor to get those little shit seeds to sprout and gotten return, I had resigned myself to tossing all 72 pellets of wasted energy into the trash.  I had a moment of silence for all the vegetable death that had occurred, and carried my starter tray outside to chunk that bitch in the trash.

And then?  The sun hit something inside the plastic cover just right.  Was that a hint of green I see?

I pop the lid, and sure enough!  A tiny little sad looking sprout!  A sprout, I say!

See that little guy?  He's going to be a big strong cherry tomato plant when he gets older.

So I glance over the rest of the tray, and I see this:
A tiny little sprout of Swiss Chard!  (what *IS* that?  seriously.)

And upon further inspection?  I see this:
Now, I'm not 100% sure what this little guy is gonna be when he grows up.  He'll either be cilantro or green peppers.  I'll know for sure when he gets bigger, but right now he's in that awkward phase where if he were a human fetus, he'd be a jelly bean.

So in a matter of seconds, that tray went from trash to the uterus of my garden.  And it was saved.  And all was right with the world.  Pro-life folks should love that little comparison.  Bumper sticker galore.

I left the tray sitting on the ledge of the future garden.  I haven't checked on it since yesterday, so I don't know if any other little buddies have popped up.  I'm hoping the warm sun will help incubate my other vegetables into sprouts as well.

So far I'm 3 for 72, and I'm hoping to improve my odds.

In related news, I have three baskets of strawberries that are popping like ker-azy.
I'm actually surprised I've got fruit already coming through.  Hopefully in the next week or so they'll get nice and red so Monkey can pick them.  She is such a huge fan of gardening that it'll be a shame if she can't see some results before she takes off for Texas for two months.

*Panic attack*

ANYWAY.  So picture proof of gardening success y'all.  Guess it did happen, huh?  WHAT'S UP NOW?