Flowering

I am serious about a cutting garden, even if my executive gardening partner does not take me seriously. The first difficulty is choosing the flowers, since the selection of plants will play a vital part in the selection of ground.

Some Definite Inclusions (because I have the seeds or bulbs already in possession):

• Zinnias
• Gladiolus
• Small Sunflowers
• Snapdragons
• Cosmos
• Aster
• Larkspur
• Phlox

What else? I love the simplicity and durability of Shasta Daisies and Black Eyed Susans, so I would like to plant some of each. These lovelies have the additional bonus of being perennials, so I shouldn't have to re-invest in starts year after year. Hollyhocks and Hydrangeas remind me of my grandmother, so of course they should be added. Piki would approve of a cutting garden.

Am I missing something? What flowers would you have me grow?

Little Red Chicks

Once upon a time 16 Rhode Island Reds named Rosie moved
into my house. With tiny chirps and a heat lamp, they brought great
delight and merriment to my children.

The End.

Only, I hope it is not the end of them. I hope they avoid being eaten by our individually named pets (a dog named The Gipper, and four cats: Beanie Wells, Princess Alice, Lily and Wonka) and grow up to give us lots of delicious brown eggs.

We have Livestock (just "Stock" to the family.) We are Real Country folk now.
We have Livestock in our house. We are Real Peasant folk now.
But they are small, so small Weston was afraid he would hurt them if he held them. And they are the cutest little reddish fluff balls ever. And they are named Rosie. Surely that makes it OK.
And besides, peasants didn't have computers.

Death to Kermit and Gender Roles

There are two dead frogs in the driveway. I find frogs disgusting, and although car-squished, these fellows looked too alive. I had walk past them at least seven times, trying not to look but making sure I didn't step on their bumpy, brown bodies. Maybe they were toads. Still gross.

I can't wait to tell the boys about them.

The girls and I went to Kroger today; Norah had her own mini cart for the first time. Strictly for fruit. And vegetables. And the food that she likes. "This is my favorite grocery store," she decided. I loved her happiness, even when she bumped into my heel. Several times.

Probably she would delight in dead frogs as much as her brothers, and they would enjoy a miniature grocery cart as much as she, but it doesn't sound as right to me. Even as a four year old I hated frogs, dead or alive.