I've Finally Gotten My Head Back

From whatever evil monster had taken it away to migraine-land.  That ended up lasting more than a week, which is way, way too long.  Oh, the giddiness when my poor head was finally pain-free!

Update on Donna:  I still haven't called.  I know, I'm a big wuss.  I did, however, compose a script to read, just in case I get her voicemail.  "Hi Donna!  This is Ellen... remember me?  I was just hoping to chat for a few minutes and catch up. I miss you!  It seems like it's just been forever.  Hopefully everything is good and you all had nice holidays.  If you get a minute, you can call me back sometime!  I'm at 000-000-0000.  That's my home number.  Or, I'll just try you back later.  Talk to you soon!"  I figured I'd be better off mentioning the possibility of me calling her back instead of asking her to call me.

Update on the Wizarding World of Harry Potter:  It's still there, doing fabulously.  They sold their millionth butterbeer this week.  I am considering having my yearly visit on my birthday this year, March 17.

Update on Mr. Marigold: Despite having to bring him inside twice due to below freezing temperatures and frost (WTF?  This is Florida! Dammit) he is happy and is blooming yellowly.

Update on Mom: She is doing fine and we had a wonderful Christmas visit.  She loved the calendar I got her (Robert Tuckwiller, who paints scenes from... well, apparently from my childhood.  Looking at this calendar makes me homesick), and we had our traditional breakfast for dinner at IHOP the night of our arrival.  Yesterday she had a hand-held shower and a bench installed in her bath, so she can bathe in the shower while sitting down.  I know it's going to take some getting used to, but I think she'll be much happier, and safer.

I didn't have much ability, stuck in the vise grip of a migraine, to think about resolutions for the new year.  Eat healthy, lose weight, exercise, yadda yadda yadda.  Don't I say that every year, with widely varying levels of success?   Whatever.  Really, I want to watch more movies.  I want to WRITE. I want to spend more time outdoors. I want to see friends and family more often.

Most importantly: I want to get a pedicure!

The Marigold Project: Phase Two

Well, like I told you here, I started my marigold project with love and hope, and unfortunately it didn't turn out as well as it might have.  By which I mean, nothing happened.

Time for a new beginning!  Meet my tiny baby marigold plants:

Aren't they cute?  Hopefully they will fare better than my poor too-old seeds planted out of season.

The Marigold Project: End of Phase One

I will not burden you with yet another visual of my dirt-filled planter, but the latest update is that the teensy little green thing that may or may not have been a weed has disappeared.  I have definitely given Mr. Marigold plenty of time to show up, but he has apparently missed the bus; new arrangements must be made.

One day soon I'll go to the store and buy a few baby marigold plants, and I'll post some actual pretty photos of flowers.

I wonder if now is a bad time to plant marigolds in Florida?  The weather here is gorgeous, 80 degrees during the day and 65 at night.  I guess I'll give it a shot and see how Mr. Marigold Jr does.

Also, Greg and I took a few vacation days last week in celebration of our 7th wedding anniversary on October 1.  One day we spent at Islands of Adventure in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, so stay tuned for an upcoming blog entry with lots of gushing and lots of photos!

Teeny Tiny Update: The Marigold Project

I planted the old marigold seeds on Sunday, July 25, so it was two weeks yesterday. Today I spotted this:

Now, this little dude is extremely tiny (literally the size of the head of a pin), so tiny that it's really impossible to tell at this point whether he's a marigold or a weed.

Stay tuned!

The Marigold Project

One of my mother's very favorite Ellen As A Small Child stories happened when I was three.  My father grew up on a farm and always spent a lot of time planting flowers and tending his huge gardens (yes, that's plural).  I grew up surrounded by peach trees, strawberry patches, potato plants, rows of tall corn plants, vines full of watermelon and squash, and many many types of beautiful flowers.

One day when we lived in Roanoke, VA, my dad went to plant a row of marigold plants along the front of our brick house.  I followed along to help, but my help consisted of pulling up each plant right after he planted it.  He'd plant one, move along to the next, and I'd pull the first one up.  (In my defense, I'm sure I had seen him pulling up weeds, and my three-year old brain must have thought I was helping.)  He kept telling me not to, and I kept doing it.  Until finally, he turned to me and slapped my hand.

Oh no, the trauma!  I went screaming and crying into the house as though I'd been whipped.  Mom was sure that it upset me so much because my dad had never, ever spanked me in any way before (and he never did again, actually), or really disciplined me much at all. So my little feelings were tremendously hurt by the terrible slap on the hand.

I eventually quieted down, and Dad got the marigolds planted, and for the several years we lived in that house we had giant gorgeous yellow and orange marigolds in the front yard.

So recently, I was cleaning out a drawer, and found a packet of marigold seeds:

I actually can't remember where they came from, or how long I've had them.  They say they cost ten cents.  I have no idea how much seeds cost, but that seems suspiciously cheap.  It does say on the back, sell by 2008.

Strike one -- they are old seeds.

Here's the back of the package:

That little chart on the bottom shows what month you should plant in.  Since I'm in Florida, I should plant between September and February.  

I am going to do it now anyway, so -- strike two.

I got some Expert Gardener potting soil, and clay pot that my Dad gave me when he moved to Georgia.

I don't know how good my chances are, but I planted the little seeds according to directions, and then gave 'em a little water.

If this works, it'll be my little flowery tribute to my Dad.  If it doesn't, then I'll go to Target and buy some actual little baby marigold plants, and that'll be my tribute.

Wish my two-strikes-against-them marigolds luck!  I'll keep you updated on their progress, or lack thereof.