As I know I’ve mentioned, this month has been insane. As a result of that “craziness” my father’s day gift is late, which is quite unlike me. Typically I’m ahead of the game and take pride in being the only member of my immediate family who seems to understand the importance of a timely gift (though it is fun to get a Christmas gift in May, long after you’ve stopped expecting Christmas gifts).
My father’s a little tricky to shop for, mostly because he thinks I’m the bees knees, so I could get him 9 cans of dog food (he doesn’t have a dog) and he’d call me up, thrilled I thought of him. Traditionally I do plants, because he loves to garden, or Civil War books/DVDS and the like–which he also loves. This year I thought a little outside of the box. He’s a huge coffee drinker–the variety that starts drinking it at around 7 and goes all day, stopping around 4.30 or 5. My gift? A coffee mug. All that worrying and it was right there the whole time!
I had this picture put on a mug. The mug also says, “Hey, this is Daddy’s coffee!”
On a downer note, this gloomy gray weather is killing our plants. Here were a few in happier, sunnier times:
RIP little cilantro babies…RIP. In memorial to these little babies, I found a bouquet of flowering coriander–the sweet little delicate daisy-looking big sisters of tender cilantro once it goes to seed, and made a huge, beautiful bouquet. I frequently made bouquets from our veggies gone to seed in L.A. and really miss the sublty of it. Flowering veggies make beautiful arrangements, the curling sprouts and shoots of cucurbits in particular (the pretty yellow flowers die in a few hours).
We had intricately arranged our little seedlings here, on a shelf Moses constructed from some cheap shelving we bought at Target and cinched with zip-ties (because the connectors were very, very ugly and bulky), then mounted on the wall. (We have another on the opposite wall that is not on a mount but instead makes a buffet and has a salvaged wooden top Moses constructed with a table saw in our basement)–I don’t want to make you too sad, but these little guys didn’t make it, either.
I’ve spent the afternoon working on gathering a tedious collection of library materials…and listening to this:
Strangely, this book is about a Russian man who falls in love as a 10 year old and writes a book about his lost love he never got over…but he’s from this small town in Russia/Poland, that changes rule every few years. What’s weird is that I did a reference course and had to find information all about this weird town I was sure I’d never hear of again.
And here are some things I want: