I was in Mom's car this week and happened to notice this curse word cd title. I was thrown for a second...until, that is, I recalled making her a Rufus Wainwright mixtape titled Rufus, Bitches. No surprise it's one of Mom's faves and mine too...
Despite the withered blackness of these specimens, my Venus flytraps have been thriving in Tacoma. They're trapping so many bugs and loving it. These three are all trapped out--each trap usually lasts three bugs before dying. Here's a tip: flytraps need period of dormancy during the winter. I'll probably bring them into the garage once the heavy freezes start, but they're fine and dandy with cold temps and light frosts.
The sunny days are dwindling, but I caught a bit of sunlight coming through the side of the hay shed. It was kind of a lovely autumn moment.
Mom and I harvested some garden potatoes this week. It was a modest harvest--not going to sustain us through the winter or anything, but you know what we found in spades? Worms. A bountiful worm harvest! When I was in fourth grade, I found a giant worm in the garden and named it Mel and kept it in Mom's childhood toy washtub. True story. It's why Mom still calls those big garden worms Mels.
Sully's winter coat looked so dark and thick and curly that I decided to take a picture. This is his neck region--other regions are covered in mud because he's an animal and rolls in it with great gusto. As the below text suggests, Sully kept turning his head and nipping the elbow area of my sweatshirt. It was a lip-only bite, so I wasn't too concerned. One time, in middle school, Sully caught my index finger and bit through the skin. I could see my vein and it was disgusting. Another true story.