Nearly everything is above ground now. I still haven't seen any sign of the parsnips, but they're always slow. Beans are up; spinach, of course; corn; carrots; cantaloupe; cucumbers; all coming along just fine. Lost a couple of peppers, but... aw hell, I'm boring the crap out of myself with this. I can imagine what it's doing to you.
The thing is, I'm having some difficulty at the moment coming up with enough interest in any of the current events to generate 1,000 words out of it. Eric Cantor lost his primary challenge to a tea bagger?... big deal. One douche replacing another--standard procedure in today's Republican Party.
John McCain still bitching about the Bergdahl deal?... so what? It's like that crazy dog that barks all night--you just have to tune it out if you want to get any sleep.
Iraq disintegrating into sectarian violence?... duh! And we all need to send George Bush a thank-you note for giving us the gift that keeps on giving.
I thought maybe a little of that pastoral gardening vibe would get me through this week. Yeah... if I can stay awake long enough to get it written. So let's do this instead: I'm going to duck over to MulletBoy's "Randem Thinkings" blog and see what's occupying his brain today.
Whooee dawG! I think I've figured out what to do with my hair when I go away to collige. I wouldn't of thought nothing about it except for when ol' Ripster comes strutting into Lube 'N' Scoot about three weeks ago with a head so bald you could use it to pound dings out of one of those Chinese wok pots. I says "Whatd you do to all your hair, Cuzz?" cause ever since we were in jumior high school both me and him been wearing our hair long to show what rebels we are.
He says "When I go to collige, I want to look like the toughest dude in the dormertary. And what with this here bald head along with the Glock I'm going to have strapped under my arm ever where I go, I figure them fraturnity boys'll think I'm somebody you don't want to mess no how no way with. It makes me look like Vin Deezle, don't you think?"
I says "Yeh, sure does. If ol' Vin Deezle had ol' Adrien Brody's face and ol' Jack Black's body, you'd look just like him."
Then Rip says "Well hows about you shave your head too. What I hear is the collige girls love a skull with nothing but skin on it" and I say "Rip, did you forget I'm married?" which I don't know how he coulda since he was my best man and threw me the hum-dingerest bachelor party Owyhee County ever seen except for he couldn't get a stripper to come down here from Nampa for anything less than 25 bucks so he hired old lady Lickymaw instead and when she pulled up her bra, she accidently knocked out her own dentures and I been trying to forget what I seen ever since.
"Naw" he says "I didn't forgot you were married. All I'm saying is it wouldn't do no harm to have a good looking coed or two helping out with the stuff we ain't very good at. And there ain't nothing that a coed likes more than a shaved head. That's what I hear anyway."
So then I say "Who told you that?" and he says "The barber what shaved my head." So I say "But the thing is, Rip, we ain't even heard back from them colliges we appleyed to. And besides, how could I call myself MulletBoy in my blog anymore if I went and had my mullet shaved off?"
"Uh, I hadn't thought of that" he says, but I've been thinking about it since and I've decided I can't go to collige looking like I looked ever since jumior high school, can I? So I got to wondering what I'd look like if I shaved off ever thing but the mullet parts, and last Friday night when we were sitting out by the ditch drinking that Keystone he brought over, I told ol' Rip what I'd been wondering and he says "Wull why don't we give it a try?"
So we did. At the time, I thought it was a good thing my wife had gone to bed sos she could watch ol' Greg Fergyson sos I wouldn't have to listen to her tell me not to do it. But then when I woke up the next morning with her screaming in my face about how I looked like some kind of choopoocabra or something, I was wishing she'd been there to stop me. I says to her "Well it's your fault, you and your precious Greg Fergyson!" and she says "How is it my fault?" which I then say "Cause if you didn't have to watch Greg Fergyson ever night like he was your boyfriend or something, Rip wouldn't ha done this cause you'd ha said he couldn't!"
Then Rip says, cause he'd never gone home yet and spent the night sleeping out by the ditch, says "What's the big deal? It'll grow back. Probably." And she stomps out and han't spoken a word to Rip since. If she wants to tell him something, she says to me "Tell your idiot cousin that it's been a week now and you still look like a choopoocabra!"
Yeh. Like she'd know what a choopoocabra looks like.
But so anyway, I'm glad it all happened cause it got me to thinking about how I want to look when my hair except for the mullet parts grows out. And now I've finally decided. I'm growing a beard. Whooee Dawg! A real long 'un. But not no Mooslem beard like that Bowe Bergdoll's daddy grew. Nope, my beard'll look like ol' Duck whats-his-name on that Dynasty show. And I'm hoping that by the time our get-into-collige papers come, the rest of the hair on my head will all be back. My wife says I'll look like a saucequash but that's okay. I bet there's not many fraturnity boys what'll mess with no saucequash. Especially not when he's got Vin Deezle with 'im.