It could be said that I am in a prickly mood. In fact, it has been said of me and so it must be thus.
Maybe I had a jealous spark when I saw Tonya post photos of cacti. My cacti were last week. Hers are now. In general, I prefer pleasant things to be in the now rather than in the last week.
I wanted to throw pictures out to match hers – boulders (she had boulders up on her blog), or little close-ups of puffy headed plants (easy! we have plenty of puffy headed flora up north, especially since it snowed lightly last night), that kind of thing. But my photos were bleak and lacked spark.
prickly and puffy
Then I got myself into a discussion about holidays with a person who doesn’t do holidays. People like that are as sanctimonious about their choices as are vegetarians who ride bikes for fun. Oh! He is in fact also a vegetarian who rides bikes for fun. So he’s got the sanctimonious thing down pat.
You've heard the argument: holidays are just a corporate commercial capitalist bla bla bla.
So I knew my chance of getting a humdinger of a celebration going on March 8th (you know, International Woman’s Day) was going to fall on deaf ears. No lip-smackin’ surprise in store for me on that day. At least not from this friend.
Still, I hardly think I was a bear today. Certainly not a prickly bear. Indeed, in my more mellow moment I decked a table with yellow tulips and actually smiled, on account of the Winter Games starting now. I know how to nip prickles in the bud. I’m fine. Yeah, totally.
Maybe I should have had a cosmo.
Not too late.