Tomatoes!

After a million days and nights worth of rain, we finally have tomatoes!

Eight is Enough

I was cleaning the tank today, like a good little fish caretaker when I noticed something rather surprising.

Two new fish.

I know they are new additions because: a) I can count, and b) they are very, very small. Although, they are actually quite large for babies, which means they have managed to hide from me for probably a couple of weeks now. A pretty impressive feat considering how much time I spend peering at the tank. Seriously. Even the fish, with their brains the size of a lentil, are somewhat alarmed by the amount of time I spent staring at them. Of course, what choice do I have, with them just dropping babies into my lap, willy nilly? It's not like they announce they are expecting with little baby shower invites and maternity tops from Old Navy. They just leave whatever babies who manage to avoid being eaten and expect me to feed, house and keep them in little plastic castles for the next few years.

And do you think they ever say thank you? Ha!

You will be pleased to note...

... the mystery has been solved and the peppers are both sweet AND hot! It's a miracle! Actually, the real miracle is that they finally ripened. I was beginning to get bitter and resentful at how long Mother Nature felt it could jerk us around with half ripened vegetables. Tricky bitch.

I Am Easily Amused

These fish have taken over a large portion of my life. I realized this once I hung up the phone after an hour long, long-distance call with my mother, where we discussed the relative merits of the fish we had brought home, and which breeds would be most compatible with both them and the size of tank we have.

An hour.

Complete with me on the laptop googling fish breeds and my mother with her "Big Book O' Fish" on the other end, spelling out latin names. This wasn't the first hour long conversation, either. It wasn't even the second. It's good to know the crazy runs straight down the maternal line.

[caption id="attachment_279" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="scary mermaid Dora"][/caption]

So far I have talk to fish people at pet stores, done hours of research on the internet, and changed my mind a dozen times. I have stared at the tank, observed the fish behaviour, and psychoanalyzed creatures with brains the size of couscous. All so I could decide the tank and it's inhabitants are just fine as they are, and it was time to leave well enough alone, we wouldn't want to tempt fate, why ruin a good thing, and other such axioms.

For now, anyways.

[caption id="attachment_278" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="totally awesome pirate ship, dude"][/caption]

If These Things Eventually Take To The Streets...

... killing everything in their path, I do apologize.

I decided this year to do some container gardening on the balcony. Never one to do something small when it can be done bigger than all get out, I planted three types of tomatoes (regular plain old, cherry and yellow), three types of pepper (orange, green and some sort of cherry variety that is either sweet or hot - I've forgotten), zucchini, cucumber, cabbage (not my idea - blech), and rainbow swiss chard. I wanted squash and eggplant, but I was brought back to reality vetoed by someone with no sense of grandeur (who also apparently wants to sit on our balcony).

So, this is the tomato tree:

[caption id="attachment_272" align="alignnone" width="224" caption="soon we shall take over the world..."][/caption]

This thing is taller than me. It is huge. Gigantic. It might be the most fabulous thing ever, if it ever grows a tomato.

I do have two cherry peppers, and if they finish ripening, I can figure out if they are sweet or hot. Preferably in some way that doesn't result in a Lucille Ball moment.

I Think I Will Have The Fish....

So we have fish now. They are small and orange and apparently endlessly fascinating to all members of the household, both human and furry. I am not kidding - these fish are now the topic of several conversations a day. For instance:

**B.B. - "I think the rocks are artfully arranged now, you can probably stop. It looks good, really good. Okay, your hand is beginning to shrivel up, don't you think it is time to stop. Maybe? IT DOESN'T NEED ONE MORE ROCK."

Me - "Just a minute, I'm not done yet."

***

Me - "Now now, if you get to have the shipwrecked pirate ship with real rocking action -the best technology 1973 had to offer - then Sweetpea gets the Dora Mermaid figurine."

B.B. - "Have you seen that thing, it is so ugly."

Me - "Yeah, well so is the pirate ship and both of them are cluttering up the natural beauty and classic lines of my carefully arranged river stones, so deal."

B.B. - "That ship is awesome."

***

B.B. "Are you staring at the fish again?"

Me - "No."

B.B. - "You are! You aren't looking at the computer, you are just staring at the fish. Again."

Me - "I was thinking that if I moved that big rock, then I could use the plants to hide the filter..."

B.B. - "You are a crazy lady."

***

Me - "Look how fast that little one is, we should name it Zippy."

Sweetpea, rolling her eyes - "I think we should name it Charlie. Zippy is a silly name."

Me - "I really thought I would manage to get past the age of four before my child realized I was a total dork."

***

B.B. - "Honey, It's four am - what are you doing? Why is your hand in the tank? ARE YOU ARRANGING THOSE ROCKS AGAIN?!"

** I have decided to refer to the man who now shares a closet with me as Benjamin Braddock (or B.B. for short) for the purposes of this blog. It's not his name, it's a terribly sadassed movie reference, but it is better than SO or BF or any other acronym, right?

Four Year Old Geography

- "We forgot Zinah's thank you card!"

- "I know honey, she moved to Germany the week after your party and we didn't get it to her in time."

- "We will have to go to Germany to give it to her! We can take a plane! I think I will check on the balcony and see if there is a plane we can take to Germany. Maybe a biplane! They are fast! And then we can take a ferry."

"I don't see any planes, Mommy, I guess we will have to walk."