Why Didn't I Think of it Sooner?

I am one of those people who like things organized--in closets, cabinets, drawers, wherever. You might not guess that immediately on seeing my house, but it's true. As a child I liked to collect small boxes. I didn't use them for much because I didn't have much to put in them, but I liked the way they stacked so neatly in my dresser drawer. Maybe it was the possibility of organization that attracted me.

So. My husband, I suspect like many other husbands, does not share my fascination with putting things back in the same place after use. If he needs a paring knife, for example, he knows that I keep knives in the old treadle sewing machine drawers I now use for storage in the pantry cupboard. He will go straight there to get a knife. If I was the one putting away the dishes, the knife will be in the drawer. If he put away the dishes, the possibilities for the current location of the knife are endless, and mysterious. The knife may not be seen again in our lifetime.

I'm funny about bed linens too. I like matched pillowcases and matched sheets. They don't all have to match each other, but there should be two of each pillowcase and the sheets should at least be color-coordinated. I know, it's silly, right? But I buy them that way--the rose-flowered fitted sheet to go with the pink-edged top sheet, and the pink and green pillowcases. It's not high style, more like shabby chic, but I like the eclectic look. It just has to have some semblance of having been planned that way. Plain ol' shabby is just...well, shabby.

The thing is, I'm usually at work when Larry decides to change the sheets. I'm not complaining about him changing them, mind--that's a blessing. But you know, once the sets are mismatched it takes forever to get everything clean and back with its mate! It's one of those little burs under the marriage saddle that irritate but aren't important enough to make a fuss over. Well, take that back. I have made a fuss over it,  but it doesn't change a thing. I tell myself, shut up, you have clean sheets on the bed!

Finally I have hit on a solution. I bet you all figured this out long ago and here I am 59 years old and just getting it. It requires me putting away the sheets of course--which I usually do, trying to put all the matching pieces together so he can just pull them out as needed. (Doesn't work--he still manages to mismatch them).

My solution? (Drum roll, please) Fold the matching pillowcases and sheet sets together! I fold the top sheet in half, lay it on the bed, fold the fitted sheet in half and lay on top, then fold the two sheets into one bundle. Same with pillowcases--two pillowcases, laid on top of each other and folded together into one neat package. Now all he has to do is pick up one sheet and he'll have the matched set. Pick up one pillowcase and he'll have the set.

Cool, huh? And I bet you've been doing this all along! Now as I type I'm thinking, "Wait! I could fold the pillowcases in with the sheets!" Sigh. Next time, that's just what I'll do.

Why did it take me so long to figure this out?

Missed Communication

"Are these your jeans?"

"I don't know. I have a pair of black jeans. Might be mine."

"They look like women's jeans."

"Is there a tag in them? You can tell by that."

"Yeah, here's a tag. Let's see. It says size 18 Wide."

"That's size 18 WOMEN'S!"

I should have looked myself. Now I will forever be size 18 Wide in my husband's mind. And my own. That's enough incentive to lose weight right there.

And honestly? Looking at the jeans he was holding, I have to say that 18 Wide is more accurate than I'd like to think.

Missed Communication

We're fighting back against the deer this year. Almost every vegetable garden will have an electric fence. We have...let's see...5 gardens. So far three have electric around them. One will be left without because I think what we're planting there--pumpkins, winter squash, Indian corn--might not be so attractive to deer. We'll see.

But there are times when our planning goes awry.

"Yes, fence in the little garden," I said. "I've planted strawberries in there and you remember what happened to the patch we planted last year. The deer ate the new leaves as soon as they popped up and the poor plants never had a chance. And I've got broccoli in there too."

We were okay so far. I showed him the garden; he agreed to fence the whole thing.

That's where we got off track. I went to work. He got to work on the fence.

When I came home, I saw this.

"Ack! Why did you cut down the iris? They're not in the vegetable garden!"

"You said fence the whole thing! That's what I did!" He was justifiably indignant. He thought he'd done an excellent job. By gollies, nothing was gonna get those flowers!

Well, of course I see these beds as separate gardens. Flower bed, vegetable bed. But they adjoin, so to someone not of my mind, they're the same garden.

Sigh. The iris were too close to the sidewalk anyway. But they were this close to blooming. I planned to pull out the bed this fall and replant somewhere else. But they were this close to blooming!

If you should stop by for a visit this summer, be a little careful when you come up the walk. It may be a lot more stimulating than you bargained for.

Garden Guardian

Larry was up and out at 6:30 am yesterday morning to start work in the garden. On a Saturday. He usually likes to sleep until 8 o'clock on weekends, since our usual get-up time is about 5:15 am. But yesterday he was in a hurry to get started.



What's the rush, I asked, pulling blankets tighter around me.

I've got something I need to get done, he said.

I thought he meant something like hoeing out the potatoes.

I looked out the door to see how Larry was doing in the garden and realized he wasn't alone out there. Who was that small figure perched on top of the grapevine's post?





I walked outside to get a closer look. The figure wasn't on the grapevine post, it was in the garden. Meet Doughboy, looking a little worse for wear (World War I was about 90 years ago, so he has reason to look worn).


I guess jobs are scarce for a 100+ year old soldier, so he's taking what he can get. Around here, the only job available is Garden Guardian, so he's taken up guard duty.

Howdy, Doughboy!

The potatoes did get hoed and hilled, by the way.

(The inside of Larry's mind is a scary place, I think. I'd need a tour guide to get around in there.)

My Funny Valentine; or, Why I Love My Husband

I've always been attracted to men with blue eyes...

but the most important attribute the man of my dreams must possess:

a sense of humor!

Happy Valentine's day, my funny valentine!

After 22 years, you're still the one who makes me laugh.