going to school on vacation

I had a great day of shopping without children today. I started in Freeport at L.L. Bean and Bridgham & Cook.  Then a friend from Massachusetts drove up to meet me for lunch in York, ME at Stonewall Kitchen. I spent the afternoon in the Kittery outlets, especially Hanna Andersson and Crate & Barrel. The day ended back at Stonewall for a cooking class with Sara Foster, of Foster's Market fame. What an environment for watching a great cook in action! The food was incredible and the staff was knowledgeable and friendly.

The menu was really special. Easy and impressive for a party, though the dishes could also be used for a casual dinner, and leaving lots of improvisation opportunities. Sara's philosophy is pretty simple: Start with the best ingredients, especially whatever is in season in your area, and you can't go wrong. 

Sara Foster & Jim Stott

georgia on my mind

This afternoon I found myself at the Portland Museum of Art, a place I haven't been to in more years than I can count, at an exhibit called Georgia O'Keeffe and the Camera. I learned a lot about Miss O'Keeffe, as my knowledge of her was sorely lacking. 

Though the images were all impressive, the most striking to me was one of her walking her dogs in New Mexico. 

[Though I know there is bacon in Maine, I haven't seen any since arriving here. Wednesday Bacon is taking a short break.]

Ironic

e

Am I the only one who finds putting an Apple store next to Victoria's Secret a wee bit ironic?

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only in Maine

We took a drive north today, nearly to Bangor, to visit my 93 year old Aunt and her husband. Once you get past Augusta it feels very much like the end of civilization. There are lots of "moose in roadway" signs and not much to look at but trees.

As we were running a bit early, no doubt the result of my lead foot, we stopped at a rest area near our destination to let the kids stretch their legs and kill a little time. The sticker pictured was on all of the trash cans. I've heard of the road kill cafe, but this was too much, even if I'm not "from away."

captain in training

Oliver is keeping an eye out for pirate ships.

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are we there yet?

What a day. After a frantic morning of getting the kids, house, and myself ready to go, we got on the flight to Boston, where we found ourselves seated behind a couple that was clearly allergic to children. They started whining for different seats almost immediately (the flight was full) and pitched a hissy every time Eleanor made a sound. She's a screamer, I know, but that does not mean she should not be allowed out in public. Disruptions to the nap schedule are not to be attempted without consequences. She fell asleep five minutes before we landed, and was so conked out that we were able to move her three times, ending up in the backpack where she slept another 45 minutes.

We followed the flight with a lovely two plus hour wait for a rental car. The lines were insane, and when I finally reached the counter there were no cars of the class I reserved available (yet). They told me it would be 10 minutes but it was more like half an hour. We started getting dangerously close to the point where CD would have had to leave for his flight to Dublin. That was a terrifying prospect since my experience installing car seats is non-existent. Note to self:  Sign up for the stupid no-wait programs at all rental agencies before next rental.

CD made his flight and the kids and I got on our way to Maine. Oliver, who had not napped all day, was asleep almost immediately. Eleanor was awake but reasonably quiet. Oliver woke up grumpy and hungry, requesting "Old McDonalds". We managed Burger King and some chicken for O, fish for E. Fortunately, they were not as fussy about it as they could have been, but it's still hard to do it by myself. Oliver is ready to be more of a helper when CD isn't around, but his attention span limits what he can do. He's only three, after all, not thirteen.

So the kids are asleep, not without a struggle, but asleep nonetheless. I have my doubts about this being a vacation.

scottish fantasy

scottish fantasy
Originally uploaded by clumberkim

This is one of the varieties of Daylily my friend sent this year. It was hiding in the garden, thanks to an overgrowth of cosmos, but I found it this morning.

I can't say it any better

It's a good thing I am working at home today. Otherwise I would be sitting in my office trying not to cry. Eleanor is napping and the dogs don't mind my blubbering.

I can't say it any better than PittGirl. Randy Pausch will be missed. He continues to be an inspiration to so many, myself included. I hope his tremendous legacy is a comfort to his family in the days ahead. If you haven't watched the video of his Last Lecture, I can't think of any better use of 76 minutes, 27 seconds of your life. Go watch it now. You will never look at life the same again.

iBib

Matching the carseat was an unintentional bonus.

bacon studs

bacon and eggs studs
Originally uploaded by inediblejewelry

Wednesday bacon is back, with more wearable bacon! I think these are adorable. Trying to imagine a situation where I could wear them.

one of a kind

Both the kid and the outfit are one of a kind. Those are Clumbers, of course, on the ribbon.

Here's a plug for the new CSCA webstore. It's a far cry from the same old same old that shows up on eBay. You won't find this outfit but you will find lots of other items that feature the same ribbon. New items are added frequently. Shop early and often!

a t-shirt, a book, and some toilet cleaner

Now that Oliver has stopped barfing, we can move on to far more important issues, like my biggest pet peeve with blogs....giveaways that really are not. Maybe the bloggers mean well. I would like to think they do. But regardless of their intentions, it fries my bacon (ahem) when the goods never materialize. Unfortunately, I know how to hold a grudge. I have never forgiven the family for not taking me along to the seventh game of the World Series in 1975.

Three cases in point:

DaddyTypes:  Two years ago, I was a lucky "winner" of a DT t-shirt in the Bizarre Book contest. Here's my entry and here's the post that says I won. As instructed, I sent my size request and mailing address to the blog owner. Nothing ever arrived.

NinjaPoodles:  Another one that's almost two years old. Here's the post that announces the contest and here's the post that says I won a book. That's Oliver and Penguin right at the top. I sent my mailing address. No book.

Mod*Mom:  This one is more recent, April of this year. Here's the post that announces the contest and here's the link to the comment she left on my blog saying I won a set of Method toilet cleaning products. After my earlier experiences I decided to pursue this one a bit more carefully. I have sent Mod*Mom three e-mails with my mailing address. I included all the links in my last message to her. No response.

The products themselves are irrelevant. I get along just fine without them. Though CD would look nice in a DT t-shirt, he's got an entire drawer of shirts he's never worn. I was just hoping for a change of pace from the standard fare of computer geek shirts. No, it's the principle here. If something happened and you are no longer able to deliver the goods, just send an email, or put something on your blog about it. Stuff happens. Big deal. We move on. But tell me.

In the interests of full disclosure, I recently held a small contest to guess the date I would get my first piece of spam in my new work e-mail account. Only one person seems to still be in the running to win the $25 iTunes gift card, and that's Allison of AllisonSays. All the other dates have passed with no spam so Allison's guess of July 29 is the winner. Just to keep it fair, I'm going to wait until the 29th to send her card.

And finally, huge props to CoolMomPicks who sent me the incredibly useful ponch-style bib I won from them. I liked it so much I ordered more. Too bad it looks like these are no longer available. Thanks Cool Moms for delivering on what you promised.

son-day at the vomitorium

If you're still reading after that gripping title, you know you are most assuredly in for some TMI. Last night, right before I went to bed, I stepped in a large pile of dog puke in the kitchen. Bubba was the lucky winner, though he has to be the quietest puking dog ever. We were sitting a few feet away and didn't hear it happen.

Fast forward to this morning and Oliver, who had been asking me to make him pancakes for three days, at one bite of pancake and declared his tummy was full. We went to do a couple of errands this morning and stopped at Starbucks. He had his usual milk and madeleine cookie snack and that was uneventful. 

When we arrived at a birthday party around 11am he was pretty grumpy. I thought it was because all the kids that go there before us, besides the birthday boy, were kids he didn't know. He got grumpier, even as good friends started appearing. He wanted no part of any food, and even turned down chocolate milk (which he's never had before). He finally had a little apple juice but then begged to go home. 

I brought Oliver home and he said he wanted to go to bed. He said hello to CD and promptly barfed all over the living room. CD took him to the powder room, where he barfed some more. Since his last round of vomiting was when he was just a few months old, he had no idea what was happening. We got him cleaned up and into bed, where he slept for about an hour and a half. 

Eleanor and I went to Target and hoped all would be well when we got home. It seems we got home at the tail end of barf-0-rama, round two. Oliver was desperate for water so I gave him a little and asked him to take small sips. Of course, round three followed quickly. Once we got him settled and clean, he asked to take a nap, with mum, in mum's bed. I would have stood on my head if I thought it would make the little guy feel better so we took a nap together.

Though we've had a couple of time when the bucket was fetched, there hasn't been any more barf. We tried a little toast and applesauce for dinner but after a couple of bites that was rejected. Electrolyte water perked him up considerably, not to mention the restorative powers of a good Red Sox game. He started asking for "dad-os" (also known as cheerios) so he had a few of those before going to bed for the night.

I'm not sure of the cause. Could be bad milk from Starbucks. Could be a bug, but no one else has it. Yet.

All seems to be well again. The vomitorium is closed.

she has no idea what's coming next

Two shots were on tap for Eleanor's fifteen month visit to the doc this week. The good news is these are the last shots, with the exception of flu shots, until she is four years old.

Here are the obligatory stats. She weighs 27.5 pounds, is 31.5 inches tall, and her head circumference is 18.5 inches. All of her growth curves are consistent so the doc isn't concerned that her weight is above the 95th percentile and her height is around the 50th. That's how it has been all along. (Head is about 75th.)

She had a great time entertaining the waiting room, even doing a little spontaneous dancing. She was over that when the shots arrived.

is this year over yet?

This is definitely one of those nights when I would just go to bed instead of boring you with drivel, if not for Blog365. I've made it too far to give up now. All the whinging I used to do about NaBloPoMo seems more than a little silly at this point.

Since I seem to be abandoning all features this week (wednesday bacon, fabulous food friday), here's a quick run down of live in TDAAB-land:

Eleanor and her nanny joined me for lunch today. The new black dress turned out to be a good choice once Ellie started smearing me with peanut butter and strawberries. It held up far better than expected.

Holy Moly, Plurk. It was ugly when you were down. Only slightly less so when you came back up. Thank you for settling down. Dinging users' Karma while you were down was very un-cool.

Vacation starts in a week. There's no way I'll be ready, especially since we are flying. That requires much more careful packing than I am currently capable of accomplishing.

The nicest renters are moving in to our other house. While we would have liked to sell it, of course, this is the next best thing. I never could have predicted we would be landlords. Ick. I don't even like to type that.

Our first meeting with Eleanor's head teacher went well. We remember the routines from when Oliver was in the young toddler room. Still, it's strange to be back there. I hope the strangeness goes away when we are there every day. Most of the teacher team will be new to us, and Eleanor will be with a group of children that have mostly spent this past year together. So much to worry about but that would only make me crazier -- not good for any of us.

Our last Music Together class is tomorrow. We will take a little break before going back later in the fall, if Oliver can live without Daisy that long.

Aren't you glad we're more than half way through Blog365?

potty talk

Actual conversation at my house this morning, in the kids' bathroom:

Oliver, sitting on the potty:  The pee in my penis is ready to come out!

Mum, sitting on the toilet seat: That's great! If you pee in the potty you can have a piece of chocolate and a sticker.

Oliver: The pee came out! I peed in the potty! Do you have pee in your penis?

Mum: I don't have a penis.

Oliver: chock-a-lat please

There are so many ways that conversation could have gone. I am so glad it ended with an M&M.

experiments

I promised Oliver an afternoon adventure and for a change, I did not disappoint. I picked him up from summer camp (also known as daycare, but it's summer so we call it summer camp) and took him to campus, where we visited my new department. He got a snack and was remarkably friendly to my new co-workers. Then we visited the Cognitive Development lab today, to play "a cooter game", "cooter" being his word for "computer". He got a water bottle and a t-shirt for his participating in their latest experiment. Then we went to get his hair cut. It's been looking scruffy and with a trip to Maine in our very near future, and probably an opportunities to do photos, it was time for a trim. 

Poor Oliver is cursed with my hair. It only looks good cut within an inch (or less) of its life. And in the summer? It needs to be cut early and often. Scruffy and sweaty are a bad combination. I offered CD the chance to take a crack at the hair, since he has been his own barber for many years. He declined.

It's amazing any of us are even functional today. Eleanor had an incredibly difficult time sleeping last night. There were at least five parental visits to her room, one lasting over 90 minutes. I rocked and swayed until I could do it no more, and still she howled. Daddy eventually worked his magic but we have not had a night like that in a very long time. She's been such a great sleeper (and napper) that we are spoilt.

I have a number of theories why she is suddenly having sleep troubles. Since she is going to daycare in a few weeks, I started to think about the things Oliver was doing in the infant wing to prepare to move to the young toddler room, which is where Eleanor will be. The biggest transition was to one nap a day, on a mat. Eleanor typically naps two hours in the morning, and about that long in the afternoon, usually in her crib. I suggested to our nanny that she try one nap and we would see how things went. I should have realized immediately that it was a gigantic failure. She wasn't sleeping very long, was falling apart while I cooked dinner, and was rubbing her eyes at 6:30pm.

Last night was the last straw. I told the nanny to go back to two naps and Eleanor napped well today. She had some trouble going to sleep, and CD eventually had to help her, but I hope it's just a little residual anxiety from last night. So much for sleep experiments. Her teachers are going to have to sort out the nap issue. Surely she won't be the only kid who is still on two naps, right?

the daylilies keep coming

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that time of year

You know the time...when everyone is packing for BlogHer but you. Two years ago it very nearly overlapped with WWDC. That would have been amazing. CD, Oliver and me all in San Francisco. The adults enjoying hanging with their peeps (or in my case, the women I wish were my peeps) and Oliver meeting some new friends since BlogHer is a conference with childcare. (How cool is that?) Alas, the scheduling was off by a few days so Oliver and I stayed home.

I have set my sights on BlogHer's Reach Out tour in DC. After a few months of being back at work, and surviving the craziness that is the beginning of a semester, I will have more than earned a day away. I may even try to stretch it into two days, but CD has yet another geek fest the week before. Since it is on the west coast, he will probably not get home until Saturday. That means I can probably leave early Sunday. If I fly, which will cost way too much, I would have more time to play in DC. Or I could do Amtrak for about $75 round trip. I like trains. That has possibilities.

Of course, all this thinking and planning could be for naught if CD's employer decides to keep him a few extra days, as they like to do whenever he is in their general vicinity.

my son, the bobblehead

We live for baseball these days. Oliver mentions baseball within five minutes of being awake most days. If he cries out in the night he usually tells me his bad dream was about baseball (though alas, he refuses to divulge further details). Before I went back to work I typically played baseball with him for an hour after he got home from school, as soon as Eleanor went down for her second nap. He usually convinced CD to play with him after dinner. If he had his way, it would be all baseball, all the time.

To see him in all his bobbleheaded glory (with thanks to his Aunt Suzy) click here. The added bonus is hearing Big Papi, David Ortiz, singing "Take Me Out To the Ballgame". That should be worth the price of admission.

rainout? I can get us a rainout!

It seems all I need to do is buy tickets to a Pirate game and suddenly I can predict the weather. It will rain. A little or a lot, I can't say, but if I have tickets rain is a sure thing. 

I have tickets to tomorrow's game. I should probably warn the team when this happens.

plurking & tweeting

Twitter and Plurk are the root of all evil. That is all.

the summer cold that will not die

Colds are no fun. Summer colds are just plain wrong. Sneezing and stuffy heads are more tolerable when it is cold and miserable outside. When it is bright, sunny and a little too warm? Wrong.

I've been feeling steadily worse all week. As usual, I feel worst on Friday and I'll spend the weekend trying to get better, just in time to go back to work on Monday. Maybe if I got some sleep that cycle would stop. So why am I still up? iPhone 2.0 of course. My MacBook is not behaving, from both a hardware and a software perspective. Our internet connection is not behaving, as in it dies every 20 minutes or so. We restart the DSL modem and it comes back, until it dies again.

Good times!!!

lostweets

A number of times today I found myself wanting to tweet, but for a variety of reasons, being unable to do so. Here are the few that I remember.

• Dr Fu's fav or Pad Thai? I am suddenly incapable of a decision.
• If that instructor says "cognizant" one more time I will have to smack him. 
• It's a work credit card. I don't need to be told eleventy-thousand times not to use it for personal purchases. This is not hard, people.
• It is now clear why everyone around here who deals with Oracle financials has been grumpy since the system was implemented.
• Don't tell me you didn't poop. The nose never lies.
  

Okay, perhaps you didn't miss anything after all.

I'm so trendy

No, really. I'm trendy. It might be the first time in my life I'm in on a current trend. Growing up in Maine I became accustomed to being on the trailing edge of trends, like 3-5 years. It took that long for things to get to Maine. It was okay. Everyone was in the same boat.

Salon readers will no doubt have seen this article about the current state of bacon popularity. (Shout out to AllisonSays for alerting me.) While it doesn't focus on the bacon-blogger connection, it is clear that bloggers are playing a huge role.

Salon goes even further, during what they are calling Pork Week, with an article on making bacon. (another shout out to Allison, since I wasn't paying close enough attention to see the whole pork week thing) There will no doubt be more bacon in the days ahead. Pork is nice, of course, but bacon is bliss.

daylilies are pretty

Today? Brain exploded. Looking for a rock to crawl under. Will not let anyone know if I find it. Sorry. This is all I have tonight.

winning and losing

I won the child care lottery! Okay, not really. If I really won the lottery the childcare would be free and this is decidedly.not.free. But it is cool nonetheless. I got the phone call this morning that a spot is available for Eleanor at my employer's childcare center, where Oliver spent two years. 

Since the fabulous nanny is much more than we can afford in the long term, I was very worried about what we would do for Eleanor. Oliver's school doesn't take children younger than two. We were on a couple of waiting lists but I had given up hope. Then my phone rang, and suddenly the my world turned around.

It's clear that being with other kids her age would be good for Eleanor. Her brother is so social, so in need of time with his peeps, and she hasn't had the chance to find her peeps. Now she will have that chance. And I will have some special time with her while we ride the bus together. It's hardly a replacement for the time we had before I went back to work, but it will still be special.

I will miss the nanny, her laundry folding, dinner starting, dog med fetching, vacuuming goodness. She might be the wife all working women need.

And the losing? Biggest Loser, of course! A new round just started in my office. Apparently they did this before and it was a rousing success. Let's just say I ate cake and drank wine over the weekend, and wore heavy shoes this morning! I am going back to Weight Watchers next week, so that should help too. I've got an extra 30 pounds hanging around. It seems my brain missed the moment when Eleanor went from nursing 4-6 times a day down to 2, and therefore also missed when she stopped nursing entirely about six weeks ago. I'm having a bit of a portion control issue. Stay tuned.

son-day on the potty

After another day of Oliver in underwear, I think we are going to admit defeat for now. He did pretty well today but I can tell it's not quite time for him to make the leap for real. It's not a total loss, however. We seem to have established a few good habits that we will continue, such as a trip to the potty upon waking up in the morning, after nap, and before bed. 

Poop? Just.not.happening. At least today he told me he pooped, rather than denying the giant load I could see yesterday. Small steps.... Still, it's strange to me that poop is a problem. Our prior forays into potty-land have had more success with poop than with pee. This time it's the complete opposite and I have no theories as to why.

weekend of potty

Potty weekend continues and we seem to be on a definite up-swing. Oliver woke up DRY! There were NO accidents before about 4pm. He peed in the potty, though not without some angst, at least three times. Every trip to the potty was a trial and it seemed to take forever, but we had success each time. 

Then, post nap, things got a little ugly. He tried for quite a while but nothing came out. 

About half an hour later, we had some lapses. In about 10 minutes we had a major pee accident, then a super colossal poop accident. He announced the pee, but when I could see the giant load in his underwear he denied it. 

The final potty trip of the day was unlike all the others earlier in the day. He sat down and immediately peed. It was a thing of beauty and left us optimistic for tomorrow.

nuttier than me

Okay, I admit to being a bit nuts for Apple products, and that pre-dates my meeting CD by oh, about 12 years. But this? Completely out of the water.

pry-va-see or pri-va-see

You say to-mah-toe, or just mah-toe if you are Oliver. (Look here for more on British vs American pronunciation differences.)

Anyway, thanks to a wsj blog entry about blogging your kids' lives in (sometimes excruciating) detail, blogging and family privacy has been a hot topic this week all over the blogosphere. Most of the commenters on the WSJ blog were telling the author to password protect everything, or not put anything about the kids out there at all. The reasons ranged from worry about all the pervs to worry that the kids will hate their parents for being so open to nobody cares but the grandparents. Oddly enough, the commenter I identified with most is the one who suggested those promoting password protecting one's photos and blog had never seen elderly grandparents try to get over that sort of hurdle. If it's not easy one click access, my mom would probably never read "the blob" (as she calls it).

In our case, adding passwords now would be closing the door after the animals were all out of the barn. I have blogged, flickr'd, and twitter'd about the kids, starting a few months after Oliver was born. Even the usually very private CD uses our kids' names, and mine too, in drafts and other text he writes for the IETF. I recently became elevated from his "assistant" to family member. Woohoo! He's also set up our family website such that it is easily found by Google if you look for any of our names. 

And here I am this weekend, twittering endlessly as we try a more intensive effort to potty-train Oliver. I reported on the wet underwear (5 pairs before noon) and the triumph of a little pee in the potty after dinner. Yeah, he will probably hate me someday, though at the moment I am still wondering if he's going to still be in diapers when he leaves for college. Sorry, little bunny.

pure as the driven snow

Along with my new job, I have myself a brand spanky new email account. Virgin even. It's never been tainted by spam.

In the spirit of sharing the love, I am holding a contest. How long before the first piece of spam arrives? (No, I don't mean employer-generated junk mail -- I mean spam that the spam filter grabs and sticks in my spam folder. spam spam spam.)

rules: Leave a comment by 11:59pm on Sunday, July 6 with your guess of the date and time the first real piece of spam arrives. One guess per person. Closest guess (measured in minutes) wins. Winner will be announced as soon after spam arrives as possible.

prize: can o' spam with obligatory pineapple accompaniment, or the ever-popular $25 iTunes gift card (winner's choice)

wb - the cardiologist's dream

From Scotland, the land of the deep fried Mars bar, comes even more culinary delights to keep your cardiologist's vacation home from collecting dust. With a tip of the hat to MrBaconpants, I bring you the bacon roll vending machine. If I could get a bacon roll and a Crunchie bar from a nearby vending machine I would probably swear off peanut butter and jelly forever.

everyone should have one

Everyone needs that go-to person in their life. You know her. She's the friend you trust to give you the brutally honest truth about your hair, your shoes, your boyfriend, and the paint color you chose for your master bathroom. The one (or maybe two) to whom you confide your deepest darkest secrets. She laughs with you, cries with you, drinks with you, brings you chocolate, AND helps you hide the bodies.

JT, my dear, dear friend in Omaha, is that person for me. She's also the person I most desperately wish had a blog. It would be stylish and brilliant, with a backdrop of Burberry plaid, and just a touch of bitter sarcasm. 

I'll try to help you get to know her better, but she is difficult to sum up without a 2-3 hour conversation. Here are just a few snippets:

• She flew to Pittsburgh when we were renovating the house to help me choose paint colors and tile. Her visit was a mere 47 hours but her suitcase was still over the 50 pound weight limit. She likes to have choices. It was December, after all. Coats and boots are heavy. We chose every paint color and every bit of tile I needed. And a few rugs. And let's not forget about the marathon lamp selection session when we looked at about eleventy-seven thousand chandeliers and pendant lights on the web, until our eyeballs nearly fell out. In the shopping olympics, I can only hope to be a silver medalist. JT would get the gold every time.
• I think her favorite color is black watch.
• You can find her at a dog show or horse show most weekends. She will undoubtedly be wearing lipstick, even if the dog show is really a tracking trial in the rain. The lipstick will probably match her wellies. And if she's not with dogs or horses, she's organizing a benefit for the opera or a debutante ball or being a museum docent.
• She has been in a building struck by a tornado. This is important because we were together at a dog show when tornado sirens went off. I knew to follow her and she would keep me, and my dog, safe. My confidence was not misplaced.
• She recently helped me choose the right shade of foundation entirely over iChat. And her selection was dead-on.
• She claims to have children, though I have never met them. If they are anything like her, or her husband, I will like them a lot. I am a little sad that her daughter is too old for Oliver to marry someday.
• And speaking of her husband, I used to dream of him having a younger brother and clone, usually on days when I was ready to dump all of CDs stuff on the sidewalk because he wouldn't tell his family about me, or when I was sure he was never going to marry me.

In short, since the day we met (when her dog got a tad snarky at mine at a national specialty!), I have wanted to be JT when I grow up.

In this (currently fictional) blog of my dreams, one of the features should be me asking a stupid color/decorating/design question, that maybe isn't so stupid as I think, and her answering it with her usual panache. I'd send in a picture of my fireplace with the pinkish marble and a giant crack and she'd tell me what to do with it. Or I would ask what color J. Crew cardigan I need most and she would discuss at length the wardrobe possibilities of navy blue.

So, JT, and I know you're reading, go get yourself a blog! I want to know what the women of Omaha are having for brunch, what the horse show crowd is fretting over, and what color wellies I should buy.

even more daylilies

The daylily explosion is just getting revved up. Every morning there is another new variety blooming. I missed this one until I came home after work due to a frantic dash to catch the bus. The bizarre bus schedule has finally become clear thanks to a very helpful third party website. It seems there is a bus at 8:05, then 20 minutes before the next one. This is very different from the buses that ran near our old house, especially during the busiest part of the morning. At least the mystery is solved. The buses aren't late - there just aren't any scheduled.

Back to the daylily, it's almost the opposite of the one I posted yesterday. They are just so pretty and incredibly easy to grow. I recommend them if you think you can't grow pretty flowers. Somehow, they seem to thrive on neglect. It doesn't get much easier than that.