Friday, June 25, 2010

Lord Wellbourne Writes Again!

I know, the title sounds hokey but I've been out of the loop for so long you must forgive my clumsiness. I'll be my own erudite and clever self after a few more posts. (He says with fingers crossed. It's hard to type like that, by the way).

I am pleased to announce the arrival of my new Dell Inspiron laptop. It's a beauty. Glossy black and very sexuous. I've named it Sherlock since figuring out all its' bells and whistles is like unravelling a mystery. It is much smarter than I am so I kinda feel like Dr. Watson when we're working together. Sherlock's arrival came with all the usual drama that accompanies something being ordered, processed, and shipped. But he's here now and we are in that sweet, shy stage of our honeymoon. "Am I pressing your keys too hard?" "My, but don't you have a sensitive touch pad?" "You're actually bigger than I thought you'd be." You know, the usual kind of dialogue one has with a new cyber paramour.

I was up all last night until 4 am this morning catching up on all the blogs I follow. I left few comments because I wanted to get to bed before the sun came up. Y'all have been prolific! To my dear June (Ageing Gratefully) I just want to say that your bust is secondary to what resides within your bosom. Thank you, Lady Hawthorne (Canterbury Cottage), for reminding us that the greatest blessings in life are often the very things we take for granted. To the ever-vibrant Von (The Good Life) I send warm appreciation for the vitality you express in the midst of your winter 'Down Under'. And Red, (Caught Him With A Corndog) who was my inspiration to begin blogging in the first place, you're a class act through and through. You go, girls!

But none of my gentle readers must think for a second that I remained idle while I was in cybernation. Au contraire mes amis! I have been very invested in landscaping and grounds keeping, yes indeedy. I didn't have a yard in Texas so I'm making up for all those years of asphalt and cement. I spent a vast amount of time diligently attending to the de-weeding process. I have nurtured marigolds, irises (blue, purple, white, yellow), peonies the size of softballs, lilacs, tulips, roses brought by ancestors from Ireland, lupins, thistle (smuggled from Scotland), and the tiger lilies are on the verge of explosion. I have widened the panoramic vista of my gnome garden and given the black raspberries plenty of breathing room. I've planted several spruce trees in appropriate places and evicted other trees which didn't play well with others. The only thing I didn't do--much to the chagrin of neighbours, friends, and other bipedal pests--was mow the grass. For six weeks I utterly refused to succumb to neighbourly peer pressure and commit wholesale slaughter on the wildflowers that deemed me worthy enough to make their home on my lawn. Dandelions, buttercups, Indian paintbrush, johnny-jump-ups, daisies, wild strawberry blossoms, and pink and white clover. Walking across the lawn was like being in an Herbal Essence shampoo commercial. Bees buzzing happily, birds flittering and joyously singing. "Nope, ain't gonna mow til there ain't no mo'" was my motto to anyone who asked, hinted, or whined. Once they'd had their glorious lawn party and folded up their foliage I got the mower out. That was two weeks ago and it needs a trim again. Whoever said that a job well done needs never be done again didn't do much of anything except come up with pithy sayings. I've decided that he or she was referring to fine art--do we really need another Mona Lisa, Sistine ceiling, or a David? If that adage was true we'd all be unemployed and bored out of our minds.

So, my dear Gentle Readers, I have returned and I have fathoms of fodder for future folios. Run with it, June, as only you can do. I have missed you all beyond what words can express. By the by, Maine Homestead and the Grant Farm was my imaginary oasis during the cyber dry-spell. I couldn't wait to find out what was cooking in their kitchen and what was sprouting in their garden. I was thrilled to hear about Carlo's arrival. Makes me wonder about adding some livestock to my Eden in the Pines.......other than turkeys that is.............


  1. Oh. I am so glad you are back, I cannot tell you.

  2. Double Ditto! I can't tell you how glad I am to BE back!

  3. Oh!It is good to have you back, I'm chortling and giggling in ways no-one else can achieve and thankyou for the lovely remarks flying my way, so appreciated.
    So pleased to hear you have a little stock of plots up your copious, embroidered sleeves, what treats we have in store.
    How is The Imperious One and ,shh, quietly, her hair?

  4. Since it's summertime here my embroidered sleeves are of the short variety. However, the 'stock of plots' is roistering in every pocket of my cargo shorts which, by the way, are NOT embroidered. Yet.

  5. YAY!!! (And thanks for the compliment)