buy a Christmas tree!
--and I am already checking stuff off this list like it is my job.
See you in December, suckers!
Like so many Black Friday stories, this one begins on Thanksgiving morning, with the giant newspaper of doom. It was, like, fifteen years ago, which means that the giant newspaper of doom was even more giant and more doomier, because it was back before the Death of Print, and also the Death of a Hella Lotta Stores, because of the Economic Downturn of Doom. Anyway. I was reading the Target ad, and it had a giveaway. The first however many people at the store at 6 a.m. on Friday would win a chance to win a new car.I used to go out on the Friday after Thanksgiving with various of my kids and nieces and nephews to check stuff out and have breakfast and maybe see a movie. Today, I ate pumpkin pie for breakfast, chatted with both sons, read a couple dozen manuscripts (I'm screening for a competition), took a nap and a shower, and went to the movies with the historian. I highly recommend this as a template for all future Black Fridays.
Aside number one: 6 a.m.! The next morning! Isn't that quaint? There will be whole nostalgic Christmas movies built around stuff like that in, like, the next five years, mark my words.
Aside number two: In case you weren't paying attention--win a chance to win a chance. Those are the operative words.
Revenons à nos moutons: Well, it so happened that I had great need of a car, a new car. And so, because it's one of my great strengths to plan for major purchases, I hatched a scheme: I would get up at the crack of dawn--even before the crack of dawn--and I would be one of those first people who would win a chance to win a chance! And that would get me my new car, probably before Christmas.
So I got up at the crack of dawn--even before the crack of dawn!--and hightailed it over to the Target on Fort Union. The historian was with me. There were also about a hundred thousand million people with me in the parking lot, waiting in their cars for the doors to open.
I laughed one of the great pure laughs of my own personal history of laughing. So that was good. And then we went to get breakfast.
"I cannot recall where I first got the idea of tailoring coverings for certain types of plants (and even for garden planters), but we have been wrapping and sewing and protecting woody things like boxwood, tree peonies, clematis, azaleas, and many types of immature plants for a long time now."This is accompanied by a photo shoot of sculptural looking pieces in the out of doors, wrapped snugly in burlap and stitched like a cross between the muslin mockup of an haute couture gown and a Christo installation. Evidently, Martha, your upstate New York farm is populated by burlap ghosts, all winter long. But good for you, Martha. You love those boxwoods and peonies. Protect away.
"I have a great group of talented groundskeepers, and each has developed his or her own techniques and methods and improved upon our system, adding flair and even beauty to the winter landscape."So there you go. A great group, and so talented. Flair! in the winter landscape!
|more of a diagram, really.|
|look like tiny skulls? not in real life.|
|We texted all the things.|
Dear sister, I will be killing time in Sandy on Saturday, November 17 from 8:30-10:30. I request a breakfast rendezvous. Please note that if you are out of town or otherwise engaged I shall be forced to give up. Respectfully, your sister.Well, (a) I don't want to be responsible for a sister of mine "giving up," not in any sense of that term. And (b) breakfast is good! So we rendezvous'd and had a great time at the crack of 9 a.m., which I think we can all agree is a civilized hour for a Saturday breakfast and a long chat with a beloved. I highly recommend it.
|Pies, Pies, Pies. (Wayne Thiebaud)|
|Pachinko: like a heartbeat baby trying to wake up.|
|The roller coaster of my electoral attentions.|
|Speed, bien sur.|
|to the moon! or Mars!|