Way back.

Jan. 15th, 2010 01:24 am
ktlovely: (Default)
I refuse to post the rules. Basically? Everybody likes cute baby pictures. Go post yours!


According to my mother I was a smiley baby.

I was also apparently cute at some point in my life, which is kind of a relief to know. )

*Which...I am. Or more accurately, I am my dad, only shorter and with a nicer rack. But in terms of personality? Freakishly similar. Except for the engineering part.
ktlovely: (Default)
Your latest entry about birthdays and songs has won you my sympathies, and it made me laugh (duh). You were assaulted with Guantanamera and La Bamba, for which I would like to express my condolences. Though I do have a soft spot for La Bamba, (seeing as my Mexican father used to dance with me, then aged approximately three, to it...) Guantanamera? For a birthday? Really? I'm so sorry.
ktlovely: (Default)
It's a well-known fact around here that I do not do plants. I killed a jade plant...three times. That's supposed to be nigh unto impossible. And I've done it thrice. Oops.

However, I grew up with a very specific set of plants in my yard. I miss them. All through my childhood, I had a dogwood tree right outside my bedroom window, with bright pink-fuchsia blossoms, and several spirea, or "bridal veil" bushes that made perfect little "secret forts," because of the high-arcing branches and thick cascades of tiny white blossoms.

Ever since we moved in, my mom has been talking about getting a couple spirea shrubs or maybe a dogwood tree. It's been almost ten years now, and we still do not have either.

So I bought two brightly-glazed gorgeous ceramic pots at work today. They're on the large side for pots (very heavy), though not as big as what we're calling "urns" this year. I found a really affordable nursery that sells online; I'm ordering some shrubbery. They'll live in pots for a while because they ship small, and obviously I can't plant them right now, as it is currently twenty-three degrees out and there are six inches of snow on the ground.

I might be asking for trouble, but I have a lot of enthusiasm for the plan right now. And it's kind of like the French regimental in that a gauntlet has been thrown. Several poor souls at work foolishly told me I couldn't do it--so now it's simply got to happen. And it has to happen right, which means that I am not allowed to end up with dead plants this time.

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