See, friends, I've been working my tits off over here trying to get my newly designed hydro system to grow a saleable crop of basil before the year is out and YAY DONE.
On day 363 of 2014, my first harvest was loaded on the truck. All 70 pounds of it.
|Farewell, babies. Mama loves you. Now get the hell out of here before 2015 comes and you make me a liar.|
Nothing like dragging shit out until the last possible moment to make a good impression on the boss.
So yeah - it's been ALL BASIL ALL THE TIME in my life since July (well, really since a while ago) and I've hardly done anything else, but here I am to say...hi!
Missed you guys.
Also, Mr. Fischoeder got a new accessory.
See, Bubba's been traveling a lot. LIKE, A LOT. Like, going to China twice in a month and then Colorado and then Vegas and then London and then London again a lot. And we haven't gotten to hang out and indulge in our ongoing stream of senseless bullshit silliness like we're used to, so now he pranks the fish to see if he can get me to laugh hard enough to vomit.
My life is very romantic, yes.
So, the day before he left for his most recent trip to China, we had lunch. He came down to the farm and took me out for noodles.
And next to this one noodle joint in the midst of a billion Mexican restaurants is an aquarium store. One that I actually went into after our noodle lunch to get some random shit for my hydro system (it's really something to be The Weird One in an aquarium store, by the way. Load of freaks in there.) and the same place where I got Mr Fischoeder's cleaning lady, Consuela.
What I did not know was that Bubba went into said aquarium store, hung out with my favorite turtle for a while and then did a hilarious thing.
And later that day, when I was standing at the bar sorting mail and decided to look over at Mr Fischoeder and Consuela between recycling a thousand catalogs of bullshit, I nearly honk-laughed myself into the grave.
|Yup. Treasure chest.|
He is hilarious. And also a perfect gentleman.
And Mr Fischoeder, who's actually recently been promoted to Dr. Fischoeder and moved to a lit and heated location on the grow rack so that he and Consuela would survive the cold winter, is getting used to his elevated status in life.
He's started pooping behind Consuela is how I know.
Civilized, this guy.
And I finally cracked the code on the fucking paperwhites.
You know - those little white daffodils that smell incredible/reek balls (depending on who you ask) and grow in gravel in a little bowl in your house in winter when everything else outside is hiding under snow/unraked leaves?
They look awesome at first and green and pretty and then suddenly they're too tall for their bowl or whatever and Aw shit the paperwhites fell over and I have to, like, tie them up with a piece of rustic twine or something to keep them from crash landing on the floor while also keeping them from looking stupid?
Well, not this year. This year I win the paperwhites game. Which no one knew they were playing, but we all were.
|JUST TRY TO FALL OVER NOW, YOU BEAUTIFUL FUCKS.|
"GET TALL, YOU FUCKS!" I screamed.
"YOU CAN NEVER GET THAT TALL!" I screamed some more.
And then Bubba came in from the garage to find out what the hell was going on and then realized what was going on and then just went back out to the garage to contemplate a few decisions he's made in life.
But oh. OH do I just win.
|Fuck you, paperwhites. Right in your sweetly beautiful flower faces that I love.|
OH! And Bubba got me this sweet hat for Chrismahanukwanzawhatever...
|The basil was very impressed by my hat. |
And if you think I didn't consult the basil on the look of my new hat then I don't even know you anymore.
So, yeah, kinda random I know. But I couldn't let the year end without saying hi and telling you that I'm doing a passable job at work, our fish is potty trained, I outsmarted a plant and I wear woolen hats in an 88 degree greenhouse.
Priorities in life. I have them.