My neighbor (the one who knows what to do with rhubarb) popped over and handed me what she said was “a long overdue housewarming pressie.”
Yes, it was a bloody plant.
BooBoo and I were having a coffee in my garden, and when I came out carrying the unlucky flora, Boo commented “Great; something new for you to kill.” Sometimes she’s not very nice to me.
Well okay…that other plant…the one Jeanette from shul gave me…so I murdered it. How many times do I have to say ‘Sorry!’? I watered it, didn’t I? It could have said ‘Genug’ (Yiddish) or ‘Basta’ (Italian) or even ‘I’m fucking drowning’ (American). I would have understood any of those sentiments. Instead it just shriveled up and did the big Q.
BooBoo says she will nurture the new one personally. She brought it inside. “It’s an indoor plant” she huffed. “Really?” I asked intrigued. “Why? Does it not like fresh air and sunshine?” Inquiring minds want to know. She just shook her head sadly at my ignorance about nature.
“Yeah, well I can spot a knock-off Louis Vuitton at 100 yards” I told her. “In the larger scheme of things, which is the more useful talent? I vote for Louis.”
“How long is 100 yards” she asked. “100 yards is… 100 yards! It’s how long a Real, Proper American football field is…not counting the End Zones which are ten yards, and there’s two. And don’t confuse it with Not Real, Almost Like American, Canadian football; their field is 110 yards, because they have two fifty yard lines. I might be able to spot a fake Louis at 110 yards; We’ll have to do a test.”
Then, to pay her back for the crack about killing plants, I told her all about Jeremy Maclin (WR, Missouri), the 19th pick in the Draft. The Eagles traded the 21st pick and a Sixth Round slot to the Brownies to get him. Maclin was expected to go in the first Ten, but he didn’t. And about LeSean McCoy (RB, Pitt) the 53rd Pick the Birds selected in the Second Round. I had correctly predicted that the hapless Lions would opt for a QB with their Round One top slot and they did – Matthew Stafford from Georgia.
Yes, it’s NFL Draft time again. Oh, joy! BooBoo went home when I segued on to NFL Draft Day Parties I Can’t Actually Remember A Whole Lot About.
I went to shul on Saturday morning. I looked stunning, and Adonai spoke personally to me as usual. Just your basic Shabbat in Weybridge.
Saturday night, I had a date with BPeter. He came over early, with his toolbox again. No, that’s not speaking in tongues. I had a ‘Honey Do’ list going, and he Did. He put up a shelf, fixed a lamp, and mounted my mezzuzah on the door jamb so that I obey the commandment in Deuteronomy to inscribe the words of the Shema ‘on the doorpost of your house’. Maybe so much bad stuff will stop happening now. We just went to the Ash Tree for dinner and then had a few drinks with Cheese Boy; a relatively quiet evening.
On Sunday, I went to a seminar on Depression presented by Jewish Care, a charity which provides health and social services to the Jewish community. It was sponsored jointly by the four synagogues in Surrey, and truthfully, NWSS needed bodies to fill our mini-bus. It was held at Kingston Reform Synagogue. It was informative, and I did meet lots of new people (Jews, naturally, the reason I agreed to go).
There are three people in my life, all of whom I care a great deal about, suffering from serious depression right now. It’s my opinion, and again only mine, that Social Services here suck. For almost any emotional problem, the only help offered is anti-depressants. Practically the entire population is zonked out on ‘Mother’s Little Helpers’. Personally, I find that shopping cheers me up much better.
How can anyone be down about anything when they’ve just found the most stunning outfit for Pinkie’s Birthday Do? And Pinkie has scored accommodations and tickets for us for the fabulous Clothes Show in Birmingham in December? And we’ll be mooching on P.C. Hoofstraat and the Nine Little Streets in just a couple days? Exactly.
Well, we didn’t win the Quiz at the Grotto Sunday night. It was really hard this week. But we came second, so we won eight drinks. Pinkie and I will miss the Ash Tree Quiz on Thursday night because we’ll be in Amsterdam. I hope the blokes will cope without us.
The next blog won’t be until we return. Try to cope. Just take another anti-depressant.