No peeking

It was only a matter of time. In a moment of hope last fall, I planted hundreds of bulbs in the yard: yellow narcissus, white daffodils with orangey-red trumpets, lemony ruffled jonquils. All in enormous clumps. Down the driveway bed, in the big composed beds front and back, and even around the pool.

We've had virtually no winter to speak of this year (a fact that delights me, I must admit) so my one fear is that the bulbs would start shooting up prematurely. It won't kill them, but when true spring hits, the little leaves will sport dingy brown tips. Day after day, I've scanned the yard, watching for the first celery-colored tuft.

Yesterday, there it was. Part of me was thrilled: the bulbs lived! It was a good investment. The other part slumped. I covered it up with mulch, but by the time I came out an hour later, its little friends had all pushed through, clamoring for the sunshine.

And who was I to stop them?

Red light, green light

Will someone please tell me what's going on?

Today J had the rabid desire to consume an enormous cheeseburger (20 ounces, not including cheese and assorted toppings) and a double malt pistachio shake, so I zipped off in my little grey Beetle for a late afternoon date.

By the time I arrived, he was shaking by the doorway, getting whiffs of the beefy aroma and subtly staring down the packs of teenagers who were surely going to take our table, relegating him to leftover pork roast at home.

I was quivering for another reason: the normally 8-12 minute ride (burger nirvana is just a block from the dentist I enjoy so much) lasted a frustrating 38 minutes. Why? Because every self-centered nitwit in Plainview insisted on running the lights and turning left when the green light on my side indicated it was my turn. Not one car per intersection, or even two, but EIGHT! Then NINE, as I aimed my Beetle right at them and growled. And yes, most of them were yapping on cell phones, which is ILLEGAL in this state.

I was so flustered by the time I arrived, I couldn't even think of eating moo-cow. I had a portabella mushroom sandwich, on rye. And a half milkshake. Banana. Yum.

J and his burger had a lovely time, and his photo is now on the wall for finishing the big beast. My man is famous.