Wordless Wendsday: Growl

Thank You Camera!

I love to take pictures of flowers for reasons unknown. Now, with a blog I have somewhere to put them. I was focusing on my daisys and then Lily just trots into the frame and smells one, with her tiny nose twitching like she does when we're holding a treat, probably to see if it is edible, but cute all the same. Usually when she does something of this cuteness I don't have my camera, but here she was cute and here my mom's camera was, charged.

The picture does have it's flaws, you can't see Lily's eyes or nose, so she sort of just looks like a mass of billowing fur. Flaw number two, one of my daisies has brown spots. I think he's sunburned, can that happen to flowers?

I then proceeded to move to the back yard to see if I could get any good pictures of Lily there and, for some unkown reason, I got lucky enough to get:

I know she has pollen on her mouth, I think it's sort of cute. I also got a good picutre of her shaking.

Now, this post is a thank you to my mom's camera and the wonderful pictures that come with it.

The Spade That Glistened Like a New Knife

Mother and I dazedly browsed the isles of flowers at Lowe's. I was immediately won over by everything that was pretty; ignoring the practical, typical inpatients. Others sifted through the isles with an authority most likely emitting from the list of flowers they've already planned in their hands. I hand no plan I was just going to get some grass seeds for a science project, but I am an adept impulse shopper. I got to chose the flowers, me, without more than a hint of discretion from mom! We left with plastic pots full of colorful impracticality.

I needed to plant them all now while I was inspired. If I hesitated for a mere second I would lose all interest and they would wither in their plastic pots.

I scavenged all of the equipment I could find which only consisted of a child-size shovel, gloves and my shoes. The spade (of which I pride myself of knowing the name of) was probably rusting somewhere in our yard, a result of us assuming that "I can always get it later".

Lily was helping me; she trailed along behind me as I dragged the package of potting soil to the front door where the pots I was going to plant were. I got my shovel and removed the old, dry soil from the pots, from which a tree that we planted last (or the one before that...?) Christmas's offspring was sprouting. It was feeble and not nearly as lush as it's parent; it was a Charlie Brown tree. I looked across the street where a van with "(insert name here)'s gardening services" was printed in green. Behind that van, in front of our other neighbors was "(someone)'s landscaping" . I saw the workers come out with tools far superior to mine. Their spade shone like a new knife, their rake had no broken bristles, and they most definitely weren't using a child's size shovel.

I planted the plants before I got discouraged. I spent another forty minutes taking pictures of them. I didn't even bother to put the potting mix back, I can always get it later.

Just Not My Day

I was walking Lily, trying to get her to poop in our yard instead of the neighbors before going around the block, when I tripped. I was just walking down the street and I tripped, without a witness, I just fell. One of those "Glad no one saw that" moments. Of course, everyone only has so many of these moments, and all of mine are spent on other random spastic moments of uncoordination, so while I was laying on the border of my and my neighbors yard, a truck, redneck included, drove by, of course, because of some reason beyond me, Lily had to poop, right there, right on the obviously distinguishable property line just enough on the neighbor's side to be considered their yard. Of course I forgot a pickup bag. Today wasn't exactly my day.

Imagine what it would look like to redneck. I was just driving by on my way to (insert redneck-like destination here) when I saw this girl about your (he says gesturing to Mary Loo aged about 12) age sniffn' the grass. She was laying out like roadkill on somebody's lawn. I can imagine the story at many family gatherings to come...*shutter*

Redneck stopped and asked if I was ok, making a theatrical effort to muffle his laugh. I managed to stutter out a "yeah, I'm fine". Of course Lily was still making quite a show still pooping, right in the neighbor's yard

I thought only characters in books and movies randomly fell without any reason. I've never seen a person just fall. Due to my knees which are apparently plotting against me, I could not get up. To any witness that may show up in the next few seconds of immobility it would seem like I was deliberately on the freshly dewed and damped grass face down. Of course, my knees waited untill several unconcered minivanners drove by to finaly relive me of my embaresment.

Today's just not my day.

BBQ Anyone?

Whenever I see some form of logo for pork, ham, bacon, ect. it usually includes a pig. Creepy logo makers even venture to sometimes have the pig appear in a apron to make sure that his belly does not get the pork he's frying on it. Yes, this is perfectly normal and accepted. You see this all the time, grocery stores, billboards on the interstate where they only cost about 25 cents, even on invitations to neighborhood BBQs.

In most of these illustrations the pig is smiling. Is he happy about the death of his fellow pig? Did he kill him himself? Is he happy that he is about to eat his friend? His expression, at first glance, does not seem very menacing, but sometimes the eyebrows are just arched enough to give our little porker an evil glare.

When I was younger I imagined people making him smile, threatening to have him fried by his friend too (at this age for some reason I thought that cartoons were just like actors).

This pig was cooking his friend and, somehow, making people want pork. First of all, who thought of the idea? More importantly, why did people adopt it? Is cannibalism humorous?

Does anyone even look closely at this type of thing? Maybe we've grown so accustomed to it no one cares.

Another similar logo is the famous cow wearing leather, or even more manly, bull wearing leather, but that post is for another day...

The Perfect Tree

Its branches were firm and only the light leaves moved in the gentle breeze. With each swell of air the call became louder "Princessparkle, come and climb on my perfectly climbable branches". Unfortunately, I was hearing the call from the other side of the blinded windows in church on this Easter morning. I sat there, anchored to my spot on the red velvet cushion on the pew. I could barley see the choir anyway- the backs of children's tiny Easter bonnets and their mother's fancy up-dos were blocking my view. So I continued to stare longingly out the window. I had to squint to see through the layer of dead mosquito and pollen to see that beautiful tree.

I was planning the route: fist I'd jump to the lowest branch which could be a trunk by itself then I'd extend my right hand to the branch above and to the right simultaneously moving my leg up. It must be some weird childish instinct to want to climb things. Maybe the only reason I wanted to climb it so badly was I couldn't in my mostly white Easter outfit (which, by the way, is perfect for frolicking through flowery meadows or, for say, climbing a tree but I wasn’t allowed wearing it).

The tree just sat there squandering perfectly good hand and foot holds to just look good on the church lawn. I imagined myself in it, the wind brushing against my skirt as I sit triumphantly at the top. I would not be climbing on it; I’d be climbing in it- it was that big.

Who plants such a tempting tree just so it can bother children like me? I imagine they thought they were doing a good deed; planting a tree for a church, but who knew that it would grow to be the most beautiful, climbable tree to grace this good city? Maybe they even planned it; "Now children, this, this tree right here, you will never get the opportunity to climb.". The loud Alleluia chorus was muffed by the taunting calls the tree, amplified by the wind. A child cried over the chorus and I didn't even look to see how adorable it was; I was hypnotized.

I bet that magnolia is standing in that spot right now, lonely, and climberless. I can almost here it begging for a climber…

Lily, Disney Princesses, and Natural Selection

While reading on my back porch feeling extra sophisticated with tea and one-handed book reading skills, Oreo, destroyer of all, lurked in the shadow of the bird feeder. This deeply concerned the lovely Lily the labradoodle resulting in the most intimidating bark to ever escape any dog of her adorableness’s chops. Oreo, also a part time domesticated cat, decided she wanted nothing to do with it- not because she’s genuinely intimidated- she wasn’t in the mood.

At this point all of the cute, fuzzy creatures crawled out of hiding in a fashion worthy of an old Disney movie. A chipper little bird perched on our feeder with a song, it may just be my exaggerating nature, but it almost seemed like the bird was thanking Lily. Lily stood there, the feared and loved protector of all, with her little chocolate nose towards the wind and the bird- just watching. She was not causing any disturbance; she fit right in. I, on the other hand, received nervous glances from the squirrels, birds and even Lily every once in a while. Though I was lower on the food chain than most of them (herbivore), Lily was still trusted more.

Why can’t animals follow the Disney movie examples? If my life was a Disney movie the episode would have gone sort of like this:

I stroll through the forest with my beloved canine companion, Lily. I start to hum a random tune and some brave bird chirps in, of course in perfect harmony. A misanthropic kitty is hiding in the corner and Lily invites the cat to join the song. At this point my meaningless melody develops into a slightly more meaningful song with lyrics. The chorus of us sounds loud and the original brave bird perches on my finger and then slips with adorable cuteness.

I excluded the part where I somehow managed to put myself in mortal peril to be saved by a prince charming; not even Princessparkle would ever. I also ignored the fact that I can not sing for the life of me, this is Disney right?

It is no wonder Disney princesses and their singing companions are extinct; natural selection at work. How would any of these creatures ever survive?

Just another day of me wishing I was a princess…