Tutti came over yesterday on her way home from a friend’s 60th birthday, and even when I think I’ve seen every outfit she can possibly put together it’s like BOOM! More fabulous than ever.
To drink a cup of tea. English Breakfast with milk and one sugar. I’ve tried to wean her off the one sugar but she whines like a small dog until I give in.
I’ve decided to scale back my posts to three times a week (Monday, Wednesday and Friday) because I’m finding five a week just a little bit ambitious when I also have a full-time job, a social life and too many episodes of Dexter / True Blood / Please, Marry My Boy to watch (and maybe, just maybe, I will finally commit myself to Breaking Bad, despite watching three episodes about six months ago and not really enjoying them). Plus, quality, not quantity, right?
‘Til Wednesday folks!
Thanks for reading.
… To stand in the garden.
Tutti loves the garden. Specifically, she loves gardening. Rather more specifically, she loves weeding. She can’t get enough of it. She can spend hours – actual hours – sitting in the grass, meticulously picking out the weeds. It doesn’t matter that she is fighting a losing battle against the onion grass and the aptly named Panic Veldt Grass (a grassy weed, which is, ironically, softer and more attractive than the actual grass, but which Tutti rips out with a blazing vengeance).
The Guru recently posted this on Facebook: “Tutti is sitting in the back garden removing the onion grass from around the buffalo grass. I say, why can’t all the grasses live happily together? That would set an example for the rest of us. Onion weeds have rights!”
And yet, because Tutti and the Guru are not friends on Facebook (so exasperated is Tutti with the Guru’s spiritual musings that she defriended and blocked him) she is unaware of his protestations. So, in blissful oblivion, she continues ripping out great chunks of grassy weed, smiling to herself, as she imagines the Buffalo Grass finally conquering it’s oniony nemesis, and flourishing into a thick, lustrous carpet of vibrant greenery…
Of course, that too is a pipe dream, because the second the grass starts to thrive, two great big ugly bush turkeys flap in and rip it all out again.
Ah, the circle of life.