Faux Toes

I have photos from our trip that I want to post. The problem is that once we get home, the camera, the memory card and all of those lovely photos disappear into "the lair" downstairs. My only recourse is to make repeated annoying requests to get access to the photos, and then repeatedly complain that I can't find them on the network. The day my resident cave troll quits making off with the camera is that same day I'll quit whining about how the network drives are laid out.

I'm having a grumpy, low blood sugar day. Can you tell?

In other news, the lids are off the last two seedling trays, and I think that my delphiniums, tomatoes (Early Girl and Sweet 100s) and echinacea are all going to be okay. My cilantro bit the dust, my lupines never did come up, the radishes (which are universally advertised as the easiest thing to grow in a garden) got extraordinarily leggy and then all croaked at once, and the sweet corn (Silver Queen) started out as enthusiastically as anyone could every wish for ... until they were discovered and summarily devoured by Cosmo. Apparently sweet corn is a wonderful substitute for cat grass. I'm just glad I didn't plant out the catnip seeds in any of those trays.

I just realized that I think this is the first time I've posted about my seed-starting experiments. I started a couple of posts and took lots of photos ... but then the pre-vacation camera cleanout came along, and I don't know where they went. See, the computer cave troll stuck me with this stupid Mac, and the way the network drives are laid out, I just can't find where he put all my.... (Hi, Sweetie, love you!!!)

But back to the subject of Cosmo. He is the feline Marlon Brando. As a matter of fact, I think that's what I'm going to start calling him. Remember Brando back in his "Streetcar" days? As Rodney Dangerfield said, "He wasn't that big then, but he ballooned up nicely." (Name that movie.) Well, so has Cosmo. Upon being sprung from the cat shelter, our svelte grey boy discovered that we serve up some good slop here at Casa de Los Tres Gatos. (Is that correct? I never studied Spanish.) And while he really isn't much on "people food", other than the obvious - tuna, chicken, etc. - he thinks kibble and fishy pudding* are about the best things on the planet. With mama's houseplants running a close second.

*Fishy pudding, noun: A small serving of mashed-up, fish-flavored, wet cat food, served up each morning to a horde of ungrateful felines who will take bloody chunks out of your bare feet and/or drive you utterly balmy with their whining if you don't get on the stick about it.

What was I saying? Oh yes ... El Capitan Pudge-Pot. I have "before and after" photos, which I will post as soon as I can. When exactly that will be, see Paragraph 1.