Magazine holders.

Because Winemonkey and I apparently subscribe to all of the big magazines. I don’t mean “big” as in the most popular, I mean “big” as in format. Like the Wine Spectator, Rolling Stone, and Cook’s Country. We aren’t exclusive. We also subscribe to regular sized magazines, including Martha Stewart Living, Cook’s Illustrated, and ReadyMade, as well as little magazines like Craft. But the later two categories FIT in magazine holders so they are not an issue.

The magazine people and the magazine holder makers need to get together and solve this problem before I go CRAZY!

p.s. Up until this moment I had no idea we had so many magazines coming our way. No wonder we need organizers!

I had a nice garden.

Notice the past tense of that statement.

I had a nice garden, not because my nice garden was ruined by squirrels or rabbits or birds. It was ruined by neighborhood cats. People’s pets have been using my garden as their personal kitty litter. It wouldn’t be so bad if they just dug up my plants. I can put them in pots and move them out of the garden beds. Or you can line your garden beds with aluminium foil (Don’t laugh, this was my first attempt to keep both the cats and the aliens out of my vegetable garden). But when you walk outside and all of your potted plants AND your garden smell like cat piss, you begin to think about taking matters into your own hands. I am going to have a hard enough time getting things to grow back there, I don’t need cat urine to get in the way.

Anyone out there have any suggestions on how to solve this problem? It isn’t that I dislike cats. I just dislike cat pee on my vegetables. And any of your suggestions are probably a thousand times more humane than any of the methods I am thinking of.

p.s. If you can’t help me come up with good solutions, can you at least tell me some good ways to get rid of dead cat bodies?

Yesterday Winemonkey and I went to the farmer’s market here in town. We had corn dogs for dinner then went into the produce area to get some tomatoes and fruit. We went to this one woman’s stand who was from Marysville who claimed her stuff was all organic (although the fruit looked too perfect to be organic, if you ask me….). I picked up one of her nectarines and smelled it. I couldn’t smell anything. So I put it closer to my nose. And Winemonkey looks at me and asks me if I want to buy any. I look at him and was like, “No way. They have no smell.” And just then the old woman looked at me and said, “If it touches your nose, you buy it.” And I look at her like she has GOT to be kidding me. Does she make people who squeeze her fruit too hard buy it? I mean, shit, bruising is a hundred times worse that it touching the tip of my nose. It isn’t like I am wiping boogers on her produce or something. And Winemonkey looks at me as I start to walk away and asks, “Well aren’t you going to but it.” And I said, loud enough for her to hear, “She is just desperate to sell her flavorless fruit. I don’t even know which two I picked up.”

How the hell do people expect to sell fruit if people can’t touch it or smell it? Kind of ruined my Davis Farmer’s Market experience. I can guarantee that I won’t be going to her stand ever again.

*This is a long rant where I reveal the dress that I hope that other girl in the wedding likes and my deep detesting festering hatred for David’s Bridal.
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