Randomality

[neadods]

Squish, squish, drip, drip

The first thing you're supposed to do when you transplant a plant is to water it. So it made sense to go plant my new dozen roses in the rain. Well, it did when it was just a gentle mist. When water was sheeting down the driveway and pooling on my glasses as I bent over, not so much.

(Today was "filthy disgusting job day." I've climbed under the house to turn the outsidee water on, planted a dozen roses and transplanted one, bleached my shower stall and dyed the ruined skirt - and an equally ruined blouse - black.)

Now, it's time for hot cocoa and Bollywood movies.

My papal $.02
I've had the lyrics for "Dirty Laundry" stuck in my head since yesterday:
Is the head dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a
Running bet....

Rumor has it that it is/was ritual to whack the Pope with a hammer to make sure he's check if he's dead. Snopes isn't sure either way - but there's a blaspemously funny version of "Pontiff's Silver Hammer" three comments down on this post. John Paul's quizzical, studied metaphysical questions off in Rome,
Late nights all alone with Aquinas, oh, oh oh oh.

On the serious side, may he find peace soon.

Comments

[nycdeb.livejournal.com]

I don't know about whacking him on the head. I think a gentle tap was more likely. Unless they wanted to make SURE...

But I have just had a first hand report from the most circular square in the world - he's gone

[kefiraahava.livejournal.com]

When was it a gentle mist, she said, boggling. This morning the lightning woke me up lighting up the entire room through closed blinds. And the clouds are rolling in again MOST ominously...

Congratulations on the planting accomplishment. What kind of roses are they? (I know, I haven't e-mailed you re garden stuff, but the rest of this month is totally fraught.*sigh*)