Chocolate Chai

I couldn’t seem to get my socks onto my feet this morning and while I was standing in the laundry room in my underwear waiting for the wrinkles to steam out of my pants I found a hole in my favorite dish cloth, knitted for my by a friend from back home. And I couldn’t find my to go tumbler, so I had to use the one with the crack in the lid and I missed my light by 30 seconds and had to wait through the world’s longest traffic light and got to work and someone was in my parking spot, and I made a mistake on the contract I was working on and totally had to re-do it. And the stack of work waiting for me is so high I had to break it into three stacks and now I can’t find anything. 

And I had a doctor appointment this morning where a new doctor sprayed stuff up my nose and ran a scope and made me sneeze all over him, which was totally gross.  Then I was forced to watch videos of my sinuses which is like watching a totally gross sci-fi movie but without the cool spaceships or Mr. Spock, and then he explained what was wrong with the surgery I had done years ago and why I needed a new surgery to fix what the old surgery didn’t, and showed me where the old doc removed bone and TOTALLY DIDN’T TELL ME, (no wonder it hurt so bad.) And he explained the new surgery and then I found out why the outstanding bill is accurate and has to be paid before scheduling surgery (which is totally fine but I don’t understand why my husband thought it was wrong). 

My face hurts from the sinus pain, or maybe from the scope, I don’t know, and it totally depresses me to see all the gunk hanging around in my nose and sinuses and to have strangers poking around in there, so on the way back to work I stopped for a Soy Chocolate Chai Tea Latte, which is so totally awesome and I love it so much that I think I’ll have it’s baby.

So now I almost don’t care that I forgot my new password (which was the best password ever) and may never be able to order from Amazon again.

I may have had too much caffeine.  No, really.

Puppy has a new home

I finished my essay exam for British Lit, the romantics through modernism, and then re-potted Puppy in her new home. Lovely new soil for a lovely girl.  Housewarming gifts are not required.

House Shopping

Where do you shop for a new home for a mango tree?  Home Depot, of course!  Ba-dum-pum.

So anyway...I went shopping for a new home for Puppy last night.  It's not exactly the season for home shopping...apparently spring and summer are the primary seasons for that, so the shelves were picked through.  I really didn't want a fixer-upper, so the damaged ones where outta there, and painting a glazed pot is a challenge, and being that it's fall, the leftovers are often the colors that someone thought would be great but turned out to be ugly, so...no.  Plus, this home has to be outside when it's nice and inside when it's cooler, so it can't clash with the décor.

I spent more than I wanted to (who doesn't when you're shopping for a home?), but I wound up with a subtle and pretty off-white glazed pot with room for Puppy to grow.  The pig pot is awesome, but it's pretty small.

While I'm at it, I decided to get some new soil for Puppy.  I don't like how the last bit I bought has settled.  Potting soil shouldn't look like mud.  If it does there's not enough organic material in there, right?  So, while I'm afraid Puppy might go into shock, I'm going to give her new soil in her new home.

The timing is another worrying part.  She's been putting out new leaves.  I don't want to interrupt her growth, and it's true that I really don't know that much about growing mangos, but it's an experiment.  I may have to find someone with a greenhouse in a few years, but hopefully by then I'll have my own. 

I'll be sure to take pictures once I move Puppy to her new home, you know, before she has a chance to go into shock and look sad and pathetic.  Maybe this weekend, after I take my British Lit final.

New Growth

Yesterday was a sad day for our nation as we remembered the attacks of 9/11. A heaviness lay on many of us all day.  It was palpable, at least in my office.  Things were somber. It soothed me to go out on the balcony and note that Puppy is putting out new leaves.  Even in the remembrance of death and loss, life goes on. And this morning, the spikey plantings in front of the apartment had put up long shoots of purple flowers.

It's clearly fall, the tree at the end of the walkway (unknown species) is covered in luscious-looking ruby red berries. The trees have been host to mobs of birds all chattering to each other, hidden by the leaves, and suddenly by some signal I can't discern, the tree erupts with the beat of hundreds of pairs of wings, all lighting out at once only to land on another tree somewhere else and carry on the raucous conversation.

A bird flew around and around the balcony, checking the top of the post as if seeking out a nesting place, even though it is clearly the wrong time of year. Perhaps he was making note of it as a possibility for Spring nesting.  Do birds do that?  Do they have their own version of House Hunters International?

This activity cheers me, evidence of a world out there that is bigger and grander than our problems, that is far deeper than my own existence, or even that of my own country and her disputes around the world. The birds take no notice.  They have no passports, yet they cross borders without any hassle. The follow the seasons, leaving one hemisphere behind, always heading forward.

There are trees which have stood in this land since it's founding...perhaps longer! There are trees that witnessed my grandfather play as a child, though he passed more than 30 years ago. These trees have withstood wars and rumors of wars, and will withstand this.

You will forgive me if I take this as evidence of a God who is beyond, who is bigger and greater, and who takes delight in each sparrow, and sorrows with each loss, but is steady and abiding and present. I can't explain it, but I can sense it...that something else, something more, something greater.

A New Pot and Deeper Thoughts on Giving and Selfishness

Puppy is growing...soon, very soon, I think, she will need a new pot.  I am on the lookout for her new bed, and think I will give her some volcanic soil at the same time as a special treat.  Treat your pets well, I say.

And speaking of pets...I am really wanting a puppy of the canine variety.  We found one that really "spoke to" both of us, but the breeder wanted a whopping $1450 for her.  I cannot find it in me to spend anywhere near that kind of money for a dog.  There are children starving throughout the world, there are families who are barely surviving, people who cannot afford clean water...etc., etc.  I cannot do this thing.

I have no moral or ethical objection to it, this is a personal determination to try to use my relative wealth to help someone else.  This is not to be praised, it is an obligation I feel and a choice I make to love someone else in practical ways.  It does far more for me than it does for the children I support.  For me, it reminds me that I am richly blessed.  I am grateful to be able to do this thing and to care for little one's I have never met opens my heart to the plight of various parts of the world.  To help these children, not just eat, but to receive an education that should help them become self-sufficient and able to help their families and communities in ways I cannot, is a wonderful thing.  The cost is so little, it embarrasses me.  It should cost more, I think.  It should hurt, cause me to make choices, to deny myself something.  Something worthwhile, that is, not a few cups of coffee each month, or a magazine subscription.  Ah, my heart, I fear, does not love enough for more profound sacrifice.  I wish it did.  My sin in this is a lack of love and a love of self that must be turned away from.  Lord have mercy!

Bad Ads

Puppy and I were perusing Facebook, doing some photo-editing and some schoolwork when this popped up onscreen:

There is some program (I don't know much about it,) but it grabs random pictures and places them next to ad text.  The pictures are SUPPOSED to be relevant to the ad material.

Great job, ad guys and girls.  Great jobs.

Potty Theme Song

Wait, wait, wait...you're telling me you don't have theme music for the potty?  Oh dear, I really should help you out with that.  But first, let me tell you how potty theme music began.

I was at my friends house playing India Rail.  Shortly after the game began, one of the players got up to use the restroom, which was right off the kitchen/dining area where we were playing.  I'm not kidding you, you could hear EVERYTHING!  At that moment, I remember our hosts laughing as we came in telling us all the upstairs was OFF LIMITS because it was a mess.  I can respect that, but when faced with the prospect of a bunch of people knowing your business behind the bathroom door, and no other restroom available...I had to ask, "So how long does this game usually last?"  "Oh, it can go on for HOURS."

And it did.  Now typically I am fiercely competitive, but by the end I just want the game over so I could go home to pee without half a dozen people listening in.

This is when I came up with potty theme music.  The idea is this, when you enter a restroom, theme music should begin to play as you turn on the light, thus masking the sounds of your...er...business.  I suggested to my host the following, and now it is my preferred theme music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjMNNpIksaI

You may now make it yours.  Again, you're welcome!

What does this have to do with Puppy, you ask?  Legitimate question.  Nothing, really, except being around Puppy makes me happier, sillier, goofier.  I win.  You win.

The end.

P.S. I should patent this idea.

Just Chillin'

The Prince and the Puppy

Well…the little Prince George Alexander Louis has gone home. I’m hoping we can slowly go back to normal and let the hysteria die down. All this talk of the little royal is fine, I suppose, but I would really like to get back to important things.  Like Puppy. 

Puppy doesn’t poop. Puppy doesn’t scream; Puppy doesn’t need a car seat, and all the hysteria about whether a car seat is hooked in properly is completely moot. I just need to spray her with a mild soap solution every now and again to keep the pests away (unfortunately I didn’t start this quite soon enough, and there is a small hole in one of her leaves.)

I’m all for human procreation, don’t get me wrong, I’m just glad that for me, the equipment is…er…past its expiration date.  Grandchildren are far more fun. 

And Puppy is far less exhausting, something you don’t really think about a lot when you are twenty-something, but when you are forty-something approaching fifty, is a salient point.

 

That being said, I do think it would be fun to order the cute little receiving blankets that the little prince went home in.  Puppy would love them, come winter.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

I took Puppy home for the weekend, and at first she seemed…unhappy with it.  Her leaves drooped and I feared the worst—that I was a Puppy killer.  She is living on my deck, where she gets full sun for a few hours a day, which has really improved her coloring. Over the past few days she has grown a full inch, if not two.  I haven’t taken any pictures of her yet, hoping to allow her a good amount of time to adjust.

I have to keep a careful eye on the temps, as the blazing heat sucks the moisture right out of the ground, it seems.  Fortunately, she is in a glazed ceramic pot, so if I water enough, the pot soaks in a lot of water which is an extra source of moisture as the soil dries out.

From her new perch, Puppy gets to see barn swallows flitting about, and has visiting finches gathering about, ignoring her completely, as they go about their own business, but still, it’s something to see. A large chocolate lab lives above us, so we all get to hear her lumbering about. It’s amazing how much noise a large dog can make!

Sometimes kids come and play in the parking lot, their cheerful cries lifting on the breeze, and the sunsets have been glorious. At our elevation, I’m surprised to find that we are among gentle hills. I didn’t know that. Everything seems so relatively flat, compared to living at the base of the Rockies.

My sense of perspective is skewed, and my directional compass is a bit out of whack.

It occurs to me that Puppy will soon outgrow her current pot, and so I’m on the lookout for a larger one, keeping in mind that it will have to be portable, as Puppy will have to spend the winters indoors.  It’s supposed to take seven years before Puppy will bear fruit.  I hate to think how old that will make me, and in my most fertile imagination I cannot fathom where we will be living.

What happens to Puppy if I get to live my dream and spend a couple of years in Tierra del Fuego? Spend a season in Tuscany rebuilding an old farmhouse straight out of a Diane Lane movie? Who will make room for her in their lives and homes and care for her tenderly and faithfully?  Who will remember her when she was nothing but a dried out pit wrapped in a paper towel?  And, more importantly, will they give her back to me upon my return?

And Now We Return to Our Program...

Duh, Duh, Duuuuuuun....

Between you and me, I’m rather disturbed that Arya hasn’t appeared, while Puppy has been experiencing incredible growth. 

I hate to speculate, but it occurs to me that Puppy may have (come closer, because I need to whisper here) consumed her own sister.  

It’s a horrifying thought, but apart from digging up the ground to investigate and possibly killing Puppy in the process, it’s really only conjecture.  I’m going to keep my eye on her, though.  Any creature that would devour its own sister could do anything.

In an unrelated topic, I’ve been listening to old time radio dramas lately, “Dragnet” and “Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar”.

Puppy Progress

Don't you just hate it when people gush about their children, sending you endless photos of them playing Pee-Wee soccer, blowing bubbles, etc.?  Me neither.  So I figured you wouldn't mind the latest snapshot of my little bundle of joy. 

Welcome to the World, Mango Girl!!!!!

 

I am delighted to report that my patience has been rewarded!  Puppy has sprouted overnight!!!!!  There is a good 1 1/2 inches of growth above the soil!

Arya has not yet made an appearance, but could she be far behind?

We are doing the mango dance here in the office, with everyone ooo-ing and ahh-ing.  It all feels rather silly, but the excitement is real.  WooHoo!!!!!

And then he says...

"We're moving." 

And I said, "No, we're not."

So we didn't.  The end.




...and then I woke up. 



Why does anyone move ON PURPOSE?

Trees are smarter than that.  Unless they're ENTs and live in Middle Earth, or have the misfortune of being planted by people who grow them in pots.

No wonder Puppy hasn't made an appearance yet.

Independence Day Long Weekend

Puppy and Arya spent the weekend alone, here in the office.  They should be glad, for while they are doing their wonderful work of trying to push their way through the soil toward sunlight, we were moving.

Well...my stuff was moving...I was enjoying some beach time with my wonderful sister-in-law and my awesome brother.  It was soooo relaxing.  Unfortunately I had to come back early to help with the move. 

If nothing comes out of this but the determination that never again shall we move without professional packers and movers, that's enough.

But at least Puppy escaped the madness that is moving.  All she has to do is transform from a pit to a tree, right?  No pressure here, but I'm watching several times a day for any signs of growth.

Puppy 1 has already given up.  Now it's up to Puppy II and Arya, the first of her name.  There will be jubilation when they make their presence known.

Random Penguin

While we eagerly await for Puppy and her sister Arya to make their appearance above ground, I just

want to share with you the following news story:

Random House and Penguin Publishing have merged.  They are calling the company Penguin Random.  Really, it should have been Random Penguin.  We should start a petition...because that's how everything is done these days right?  An internet petition?  Cast your vote for Penguin Random or Random Penguin in the comments.  And really...there's only one right answer.  Hint: I've already given it to you.

Seriously...think about it.  Do you want a Penguin Random?  What does that even mean?  But a Random Penguin?  You walk into Starbucks for your decaf extra foam double shot latte and BAM, Random Penguin!  The Barrista brings your penguin to you with a jaunty little Starbucks scarf around its neck!

You're the fifth in line for tickets for the guy doing Rich Little impersonations at the Harris Park Pavilion, and when you step to the counter--BAM--it's your lucky day.  Number five wins a Penguin in the unadvertised, unannounced Penguin giveaway!  Who needs to go to the show, 'cause now you have A PENGUIN!!!!!

Planting Time

Puppy and Arya are nestled in their new home, tucked under a nice dark layer of potting soil where they can perform their amazing work of transformation.  It truly is amazing, and I wish that I had the equipment to record that transformation beneath the soil. Isn't it a wonder?

I'm anxious to see them grow. 

I held a service for the passing of Puppy the First.  She will be remembered well for her struggle for life, brief as it was,  She ended her days as she began, in a red Solo™ cup.

The puppies are here!

Puppy brother and sister have arrived.  There were three but one was DOA.  And now that I see two healthy mango seeds of indeterminate gender, I can finally admit that Puppy is way sicker than I have admitted to you or to me.


Okay, the truth is, Puppy died some time ago and has simply been rotting in her red solo cup.  It's high time she was given a proper burial.

I shall plant her siblings and I shall call them Puppy.  Because I don't speak Mango, I can't tell you what their real names are.  We shall call them Puppy and...I don't know.  I have to come up with a good name for the second one.  I'm taking them home to plant in the planter I have waiting for them.  It's a clay pig.  So Puppy and...um... Arya (YES, Arya!!!!!) will share a home for a while.

I like the name Arya.  Arya is one of the great survivors of the Stark clan.  She's tough, smart, and persistant.  I think those are good things for a mango tree in this hostile world, don't you?

Adopting

I've taken the leap.  I've checked pedigrees and put in my request for a couple of mango seed brothers or sisters from a good home in Florida. 

Really.  

I checked them out. 

On Ebay.

I kind of feel horrible buying mango children this way, but Puppy is failing and I fear she needs her own kind to help her make it. 

It's an excellent plan.  And a good mango mother does what it takes for her mango child.  Oh, Puppy.  You must make it!

Seriously? Does No One Want Puppy to Live?

Puppy had a difficult weekend, I fear.  Her water was...well, let me not go into detail, but I have changed it and she is once again swimming in clear clean water.  I fear she is a very sick little Puppy.  I am making strides toward getting her a Puppy brother or sister to keep her company, but it turns out you can't just  walk into the local hardware store and buy a mango seed. 

I just want her to have the company of her own kind, you know?  The world can be cold and cruel when you are all alone.  No wonder she is doing poorly. 

Puppy the Mango must live!  She will.

I think, though, that when Puppy gets a brother or sister, I'm going to give them a nice dirt home.  I fear the hydroponic thing may be the problem.  That and loneliness...

Send your cards, letters and well wishes to: puppythemango at gmail dot com

Puppy Gets A Bath

I don't know if Puppy actually NEEDS a bath, you understand, but she is looking...kind of sad.  I don't know what she SHOULD look like at this point, but it seems clear that things are not quite right in Puppy's world.  I think Puppy needs a sister or a brother.  I think I will work on that this weekend.

In the meantime, I decided to give Puppy a gentle bath.  This is to ensure that there is no stink, fungus or other yuckys getting in the way of Puppy's growth.  Now I think it just stands that Puppy needs the encouragement of another mango growing nearby.

So I shall work on this over the weekend.  Once again, Puppy will be alone with our ghost, so I may have to leave a note for the ghost.

Dear Friendly Ghost:

Please take care of Puppy. She isn't feeling well.  Maybe some encouraging words from you will help.  Thank you for watching over her while I'm away.                                            Puppy's Mother

So, there you have it.  The plan for the weekend....Say, do you remember in Peter Pan, when Tinkerbell is fading and everyone who believes needs to clap???  Maybe that's what we should do here.  But instead of clapping, we can all comment with an encouraging word for Puppy the Mango.  I will make sure she gets all the kind words you can muster, okay?  Comment away!

Puppy Dreams

I wonder what Puppy dreams there in her Solo cup home? Does she dream of sunshine? Of birds nesting in her branches? Does she see herself in full glory, tall and beautiful, uncurling her luscious leaves underneath a bright blue sky? Does she dream of flowering? Of bees buzzing about? Does she blush at thoughts of pollination? Does she long to be fertile and to tenderly carry her golden children to full growth?

As I play some Bonnie Raitt and Norah Jones for her, I hope her dreams are sweet.  I can't wait to meet her.  Hopes she pokes her little head out soon!

Trauma in the Puppy Cup

I'm not gonna lie...yesterday was traumatic for Puppy, and for me. I took the advice of all the mango growing experts on...ask.com (they would never steer you wrong, right?) and removed Puppy's seed from the pit.  Poor Puppy looks so fragile and exposed there, sitting in the water in naught but her birthday suit.  Letting her sleep in today.  Will check on her tomorrow.

The first weekend alone...

Puppy survived the weekend alone in the office.  Well, alone except for our resident ghost, of course. He seems a friendly sort, not inclined to mischief and such, but he does make himself known if you work late, which few of us will. We prefer to leave him the run of the place at night.

The night may be dark and full of terrors, but Puppy seems fine. Whew!!!!!

Anthropomorphism

In giving a name to my mango, I find odd things happening to me.  Is Puppy getting enough light? I wonder.  Am I changing the water too frequently? Not enough? Should I bring Puppy home for the weekend, or will she be okay in the office all by herself?

I may need therapy.

I think I see new growth. Maybe.

Maybe not.

I have a large oriental pot waiting for Puppy when she gets older, but don't tell her, I think she might be overwhelmed by my expectations for her growth.  One day at a time is enough for now.

The Beginning: Puppy gets a name

I have a mango pit in a cup of water, waiting for it to sprout and look madly about for the sun. In the meantime, it looks rather…gross, despite changing the water daily. It’s a small price to pay, I tell myself for the possibility of a mango tree. I can’t have these little experiments at home, Steve has thrown so many away that I can’t even count. How many avocado pits began to sprout and then simply disappeared while he shook his head and muttered at me leaving things to rot. So I have this one at work. I have the cup marked so the cleaning lady won’t toss it. It’s one of those iconic red solo cups that some people enjoy rather ironically, though I’ve never really understood why… One of my co-workers, whom I adore, has a real issue with anything that looks remotely off. She is a total germaphobe, who will not touch a bathroom doorknob without a paper towel in her hand, and flushes the toilet with her foot.

 

She laughs at herself, and her awareness of her own foibles is endearing rather than annoying.

 

I was changing the water and cleaning the cup before refilling the cup and returning the pit to its home. She happened to walk into the kitchen at that point and made a bit of a production out of it. “It’s rotting!” she shrieked. I smiled. “Of course it is. That’s what happens to many seeds before they start growing. The outsides rot.” I say it knowingly as if talking to a child. I don’t know whether it’s true or not, but I think I read it somewhere. She carries on for a bit, and after leaving her the kitchen, I snap a picture of my mango pit and email it to myself.

 

Soon, I have an email heading to her (and another co-worker, to make it look more real). The subject is “FW: OMG, cutest puppy/cat picture EVER!!!!!” The exclamation marks are crucial to making a forwarded photo believable, as is the “OMG”. I can’t bring myself to have a misspelling, although then it would be triple gold.

She is completely grossed (score!) and laughs for several minutes.

 

It occurs to me to make a sign for my little project. I tape my sign to a wooden coffee stirrer and attach it to the cup. It reads “I am trying to grow a mango tree. I call her “Puppy.”

 

I think Puppy needs a blog. And daily updates.

 

When Puppy has lovely mangoes dangling off her lovely branches, we’ll see who's laughing then…. You would think that things such as this would take a lot of time out of my workday, but truthfully, they take almost no time at all. I’ve gotten so skilled at these kind of things I can do them almost without a second thought. I’m not sure if that is something to brag about, or if I should hang my head in shame. Probably the latter.