Monthly Archives: July 2017

Jul28

Tigridia Time Again

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You know I love these. Last summer I meant to post a gazillion of them, but Spot got sick and I haven’t really been the same since, to be honest. It is a hard thing to associate a flower that I love so much with the death of my best boy, but it is now a ‘thing’ for me. 

Keeping with the maudlin theme, I think that if I ever decide to have an actual grave and not ask that my ashes be spread between Ireland, Florida and maybe Cleveland, I would like my patch to be planted in Tigridia. They always begin to bloom around my birthday, and like life itself they are both beautiful and temporary.

I’m actually not depressed, I promise! How could I be with these beauties saying hello every day?

Jul12

I Need a Dahlia Expert, Help! 

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I have about eight different dahlias, and I left every last one outside over the winter. But this one…

It was planted late last year, never did much, and I knew it wasn’t planted deep enough at the time. I did have a go at digging it out, but it didn’t want to come so I left it.

It is in a deep pot with tulips and ornamental variegated ivy (unknown variety, I found a bit on the pavement/sidewalk that had broken off from a planter, and made it mine) . The tulips did naught but one bloom this year, but I didn’t expect them to. The ivy was going crazy last year, but looks horrible this year.

The dahlia, however, looks like maybe it has a virus?


Lower leaves and stems look normal, but the budding bits of recent weeks look diseased.


So, should I chop all the icky looking parts off and hope new growth is healthy? Or is this entire plant for the bin? 

Other dahlias in pots, thriving and budding within less than a foot of this one are just fine.

Jul10

No Chive Turkey, Can You Dig It? 

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I accidentally ate chives yesterday. I don’t ever ever ever want to do that again!

I had a lovely five-course meal, not including desert, made by my good Italian friend, Mrs MMC. It was soooo good. She has food allergies and sensitivities herself, and one of the other guests was vegetarian, so she had no problem making a special version of one appetiser just for me, sans onion.

And it was fabulous. Three kinds of bruschetta, then cannelloni, then wee eggplant aka aubergine thingies that were like tiny lasagnes! I ate two of the cannelloni and before the meat course was served, I bragged how she hadn’t made me stuffed to the gills yet. There was a lovely smoked baked cheese all the way from family in Italy, and wow – heaven in a nibble.

The meat course was a potato mash with nice big slices of truffle, turkey that had been cooking for 15 hours served in a tasty sauce that was meant to be a cream sauce, but as the chef herself is lactose intolerant, it was made lactose-free. 

About 15 minutes after the meat course – and I could have had seconds (oh no. I did have seconds!), I started to feel quite full. Well, finally! I thought, I ate a ton! Ten minutes later while eating homemade peach pie and my homemade raspberry ice cream, that full feeling started to be rather uncomfortable. I lasted another 15 minutes and had to make my goodbyes, even though it was early. I poured out 3/4 of my last beer before I left, because I was feeling icky.

On the walk home I started wheezing because I couldn’t inhale deep enough to get a good breath. I wanted to belch but my esophagus didn’t want to work right; it wasn’t sure if I needed to throw up or hold it in. I was pretty okay with puking all down my front at this point, but nothing was working right. 

Once home, I did the minimum necessary to get things ready for the morning, and collapsed on the couch, leaving the crippled man to fend for himself for the first time in months. I couldn’t do a thing but moan: my stomach hurt so badly and it felt like my ribs were being popped out from the inside.

But oh god, I was thirsty! How could I drink anything when I couldn’t even breathe for the bloat in my abdomen?

I slept hard from about 10:50 to 3:30 am, then I was awake every 30 to 45 minutes. Thirsty, coughing, barely able to turn my body from the pain. I did get up at 5:30 for water, and then Lumi decided I was a toy and got behind the TV again to piss me off. I locked him out (not sleeping with my boy is a true sign I’m fucked up) and continued the waking/sleeping thing for the next two hours but now in increments of ten minutes. Desperate to ease the strain and so thirsty and still unable to burp…but there were some very welcome farts! I was kinda glad I can’t sleep next to himself as I might have blown him out of the bed! Or suffocated him…

I had a bad night.

I felt terrible having to ask Mrs MMC today what was in the turkey dish, as I knew from the timing that it had to be the culprit. I suspected the lactose free milk, as I’d never had that before. I really hoped it wasn’t the truffles or the smoked and baked cheese! I want those again. Oh yes.

Since she knows onions hate me (and the feeling is mutual) she had been extra careful, but worried maybe she used the same spoon? I didn’t think such a small amount would have caused such a problem. So I asked, were there leeks or anything like that in with the turkey or mashed potatoes?

Chives. Chives were in the sauce for the turkey! Little and innocent, soft and tender, invisible chives. Well hell, its not her fault she didn’t realise they are in the onion family. So is garlic, and I can eat that until it comes out my pores (and I do). 

I might have eaten one level serving spoon full of sauce – a few ounces at most. As I couldn’t even see green, it might have been one half of one chive that did this to me.

I can damn well tell you it will never happen again! People think I’m ‘picky’ when I say I don’t like onions and they don’t like me either – it’s real. It’s not an allergy, it is an intolerance. I swear to fuck, my body does not tolerate having onions or chives inside of it!

Save me from an unknown serving of potato and leek soup, please! I’m now going to be terrified of eating anything I don’t cook myself.