You may thank me, drought-striken Minnesotans, for this unexpected, unforecasted rainy Saturday.
Why?
Because I started washing windows yesterday. Because it always rains the day after I wash windows. Inexplicably. Without fail. I don’t actually believe that, and yet… it hasn’t rained for something like 75 days, I wash windows yesterday and even though the forecast from last night doesn’t call for rain, it is currently raining.
Coincidence?
I remain on the fence.
And while we are on the subject of windows, you may think I’m overly ambitious. That my windows may not actually need to be washed.
I disagree.
For that is what each and every window looks like. And understand this: it is ever-so-difficult to capture those spots in a picture. Because that picture doesn’t do justice to the overall effect of gray water spots covering every entire window in our house. (Of which there are 67 and I have washed 15. Not that I’m keeping track.)
The spots are from the Plunkett’s man, sprayed in September to deal with our boxelder bugs and asian beetle problem.
Last year we couldn’t spray because we were painting the house. It was a melee! I was actually feeling quite smug about the whole thing and thinking I wouldn’t spray this year either, because it was only really bad for a few weeks and *presto!* they were gone.
Only they weren’t gone. I slept with, vacuumed — and even almost ate — boxelder bugs on a daily basis throughout winter and well in to summer. They were fricken everywhere. So this year I bowed to the chemical god, suppressed my holier-than-thou organic attitude and called Plunkett’s.
And the trade off is this. The window spots. Which are a beast to remove. Even with a nylon scrubby they remain visible when the sun hits the window just right.
Whatever.
I’m ticked I can’t continue on my window-washing death march. I was all ready to tackle the remaining main-floor windows when it started misting.
Instead, I turn to the garden.
And the rotting vegetables on my counter.
And the kale.– Though that is fodder for another post. (One I started writing about 2 weeks ago and have yet to complete, actually.)
And the apples, which I haven’t even wrapped my mind around yet. And the longer I procrastinate, the less I will have to deal with because the wasps are steadily working on ingesting each and every apple.
Did you know that? That wasps eat apples? Literally eat them so that when they are done it looks like a human took a bite?
Anyway.
Here’s another “Did you know”:
Did you know that if you don’t harvest your carrots in a timely fashion, that someone else will?
Who?
I know who, but I did not get a picture of the culprit. Here is all the remains of the evidence.
I also hope to deal with the already-mentioned-rotting tomatoes today, that I harvested over a month ago, but weren’t totally ripe at the time.
Now they are going to bad. In addition to my own festering stash, it seems I was visited by a tomato fairy, who generously came to let my dogs out one day that I was gone last week, who deposited some of her own on my counter as a “gift.”
And just when I think I am getting to the end of this thankless task, I go out to the garage and trip over this:
Not to mention, this surprise — found when I was gathering sheets from the garden as it started to rain:
It will never end, I tell you. Never.
