|O, CRUEL WINTER.|
We went to bed Christmas Eve with visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads and we woke during the night with visions of a “twister” picking us up and dropping us back in Kansas (because we’ve already been over the rainbow).
San Geraldo’s cyclonic winds were back. Stronger than ever. About 4 a.m., I heard some odd rattling. Two of our three yuccas are in the protected, front corner of the terrace. One is not. However, it’s wired to the wall in two places. Where could it possibly go?
Where could it possibly go? Down. The strongly wired yucca could possibly go down.
I heard a crash followed by the musical sound of cascading stones hitting the tile floor.
The stones, by the way, have worked really well at keeping the soil from blowing out of the pots. Except when the entire pot is blown over. But at least the stones, unlike the soil, stay where they land.
|AND ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST.|
It was raining fairly heavily through the night, so I decided to wait until sunrise to right the yucca. I hooded up and braved the rain at about 7 a.m. I righted three other large plants, as well. Those are low and heavy and designed to never blow over.
The winds came and went throughout Christmas Day and continued through the night. The yucca bit the dust again. San Geraldo righted it this morning in beautiful sunshine.
|A MUCH NICER MORNING FOR RIGHTING A YUCCA.|
Hello. My Name is Stupid.
When I was taking this morning’s ‘happy pill’ I noticed that the dosage read 50 mg when it’s supposed to be 100 mg. It turns out I got the wrong dosage at the pharmacy last month. I’m sure it was my own fault. Prescriptions aren’t required for non-narcotics and I probably brought in an empty box to show what I needed refilled. The wrong empty… Oddly, the pills look identical (but the dosage is marked on the side). So, I’ve been taking half my dosage for nearly a month. Just give me some more chocolate.
(Oh, I know for certain that by referring to myself as “Stupid,” I’m going to be in big trouble with San Geraldo. But, as our niece Sara once said in her expertly delivered “woe-is-me” style, “I’m not well!”)
Speaking of Biting the Dust
The treats purchased Monday are quickly disappearing. Only one [large] bar of chocolate remains.
Oh, and the two chocolate bars made by Ana Crespillo’s brother.
Well, then there’s a box of After Eight mints given to us yesterday by Slushee, Darren, and Antony. I suppose I don’t need to worry just yet about going into withdrawal.