First of all there was the strange email trapped in my junk mail that I mistook for an ad for child prostitutes when it was really coming from a reputable travel agency.
Kids are just $99 at select Sun Resorts - LIMITED TIME OFFER
What the ... ? I asked myself. Surely to god no one would that blatantly advertise child prostitutes.
I was about to delete it when I noticed that the sender was Flight Network, the cheap flights service I used to fly to London in November.
That made me think about the odd sign I saw several years ago in Orleans. I went out of my way to tell them there was a problem with their sign. It was one of those cheap ones ... big ... but cheap. You placed the letters of your message yourself. Sort of like magnetic poetry on the fridge.
The fact that it was in a very francophone part of Greater Ottawa might have explained the lack of interest shown by the employees I spoke to.
The sign read in BIG BOLD letters:
MASSAGE THE RAPIST
I decided against attempting to let Flight Network know about my confusion. They would likely have been just as disinterested as the massage therapists had been.
And then a while later as I dealt with steady unremitting rain and very wet dogs who followed me from room to room, the smelliest one never more than five feet away from me, I thought it would be appropriate to say that they were "hounding me", or " dogging my footsteps" perhaps.
Because of the stink I opened windows upstairs and lit the wood stove downstairs providing fresh air for me, warmth for all of us, and drying spots for wet dogs.
The open windows inspired the newly airborne robin youngsters to attempt to join us. Two flew right up to the screens in my den and one dropped a white calling card on the cedar sill before flying back to his tree.
Yesterday I planted creeping red thyme in the zany zen garden ... and it is very happy with all this rain ... even if I could stand a little more sunshine.
It has been an odd day in many ways. I am still not dressed ... lazing about answering emails, talking to friends on the phone, researching perennials that like damp places.
A good way to spend a rainy day.
Hope you are enjoying your weather ... and your day.
3 comments:
Rhubarb likes damp places. They take a LOT of
watering I have found.
They grow in pots on our balcony year after year.
Hardy plants. And they will multiply. But hate direct sun/heat I find -- they wilt (even with dollops of sheep manure) in their pots.
But suspect in direct ground, they would stay firm.
When they do wilt, it is fascinating to water them and watch them upright their leaves, millimeter by millimter.
I think the spot I was thinking of drains too slowly for rhubarb, but I love rhubarb so will find a good spot for it. It has to be damp but with decent drainage ... and ... a place where I can dig down 1 1/2 feet. That in itself is often hard to find up here in these hills. However ... I will find a spot. Thanks for the reminder, Barbara.
Oh dear. Both signs are disturbing.
We had a wonderful rhubarb patch when I was a child. It was important to my Mum that we had rhubarb crisp for a spring tonic. That patch still flourishes at her home (full sun). It came from a patch at our farmstead. Now some of it also grows in my garden. It's in partial sun there and thrives. It gets water when it rains. It's as hardy as can be but maybe that's because it's an old time Ontario variety.
You paint a most lovely picture of your day.
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