A Modest Proposal

Daniel and I went to Kroger last Friday night. We had decided to buy groceries and to stop eating out so much. No, seriously. So we were making our way down the cereal aisle when a lady walked up and asked if she could give me her card. Since I am the world’s biggest chicken a person of culture and acceptance, I said yes. She then handed me this:

Yes. That happened. 

I said thank you, and she moved on. Little did she know that I could never EVER move on from this. 

Aside from the initial question of whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat, I did have a few more key questions:

1) Why Kroger? Is her business nearby? Do statistics show that grocery shoppers are more willing to accept business cards from strangers? Maybe it has to do with the cereal aisle specifically. Or was it a random hand-out, like she knew she would feel ridiculous if she didn’t hand out ANY cards at Kroger when she had set herself a goal to hand out at least five. Which leads me to my next question…

2) Why me? Did I give off some kind of air that I was interested in her services? Was it my Dr. Pepper t-shirt or Target jeans that sealed the deal? Is the cereal aisle the new sexy aisle? Or was it my hair – did she think I could  use a weave? So many questions. So few answers.

3) What. the. heck. Is this a viable business? Is business so good that she can hand out her cards in Kroger and walk away like a boss? Or did she just start the business last week and is trying to drum up some sales? Is she writing her own blog somewhere about the moron in Kroger who actually took a card like this from a total stranger? WILL ANY OF THESE QUESTIONS EVER BE ANSWERED?

All in all, I guess I will have to live with the mysteries. If any of you are interested in her services, I still have the card. And you can probably find her at the Russell-Ridge Kroger – I hear she works the cereal aisle on Friday nights.

Now, have another picture so I don’t have to use the sexy card as the picture for Facebook when I post this:

My brother-in-law, Reverandy. Sorry, Andy.

The Hydrangea

My mother’s birthday was last week. We celebrated today. We’re kind of slackers. But we’re not total slackers because we did get her what she wanted: A blue flowering hydrangea. Seems simple enough, right? Wrong. So wrong. The wrongest. 

My sister took the first turn – she went to Lowe’s. No luck. She went to Pike’s. No luck. She then passed the baton to me as I was leaving work and had a little more time. I went to a different Lowe’s. No luck. I went to Wal-Mart. When I asked for a hydrangea the plant lady wandered around in a circle for a minute, looked at me, and shrugged. No luck. 

Then I went to another Pike’s. My sister had called ahead so we knew there was potential here. But we’d been burned before, so I was cautious. I walked in and found myself surrounded by plants, trees, flowers, and various other unidentifiable foliage. Surely the hydrangea I sought must be nearby. 

The only problem was that for all the items filling the room, people were not one of them. I am not what you would call a botanist. I’m more what you would call a plant killer. I know a hydrangea when I see one but I had no idea where to look. This place was like the Taj Mahal of plants. And there were categories: 

“Outdoor Plants.” …as opposed to what?

“Flowering Plants.” Yes, there. That was the one I wanted.

“Flowering Hedge Bushes.” …or was THAT the one I wanted.

“Hanging Plants.” I did not want my plant to be suicidal. 

“Trees.” DOES NO ONE WORK HERE.

It wasn’t going well. I was getting scared. Navigating that place was like running a 10k while blindfolded and being chased by drunken chihuahuas with cattle prods. But finally I saw the light – a man walking down the aisle, wearing – wait for it – a PIKE’S EMPLOYEE SHIRT. HALLELUJAH. 

“Can you tell me where the hydrangeas are?”

The man just stared back at me. I started to worry. Was I saying it wrong? Had I actually asked about some sort of child cult by accident? He stared some more. I stared back. After a long time, he turned, looked over the whole plant room (nursery?), and said very quickly, “It’s down over there to the left,” pointed, and walked away.

Oh. 

I eventually did find the hydrangea. It was pretty and seemed small enough to carry. So I picked it up. Stay tuned for my next post: How To Walk To Your Car While Carrying Deceptively Heavy Plants. 

“Won’t anyone ever find me?”

And Then There Was Limb

Yesterday at approximately 8:40 pm I stumbled upon a scene that led me into the seedy world of arborists and foliage. I was outside, innocently waiting for my dog to finish conducting business with the lawn, when I stumbled upon this horrific sight. Be warned – this image is not for the faint of heart.

That, my pretties, is a tree limb. I know. I am still getting over the shock. It was laying on our fence, gasping for life, hanging on to the threads of leafy goodness. We did what we could, but it was too late. 

But Leroy the Limb will get justice. My crack team and I have done some initial research into this issue and have put together a list of likely suspects:

Suspect #1: The Neighbor’s Tree

Ah, yes. A tree of unknown background, swaying carelessly in the wind. Is its carelessness due to its innocence? Or is it because it knows we’ll never get enough evidence to prove its guilt? There is a broken off limb on this tree, but it is conveniently too high to investigate at this time. Well-played, tree. Well-played.

Suspect #2: Our Tree

A tree of three trunks, this particular tree already has some scars from previous incidents. It sits with arrogance, daring someone to cut it down – what does it care; it has two extra trunks. The perfect candidate to cover up a heinous crime.

Suspect #3: Michigan

Like this one needs any more explanation. 

So, who was it? The Neighbor’s Tree with the missing limb? Our Tree, with its arrogant extra trunks and bad attitude? Our dog, who generally causes destruction everywhere he goes?

Stay tuned as we delve deep into the world of trees, plants, and justice.