selling insurance

Greetings and salutations, everyone; yes, once again it is I, Mani the slightly small, though not totally tiny, purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, and here to bring you up to date on the very latest news from our frozen garden. You may remember me from such posts as “Still Not Much Happening”, among so many other very-little-happening-type posts.

Here I am in a characteristic pose.16011601Here I am wondering why there always has to be a “characteristic pose”. “Because there just does” isn’t really an answer.16011602Well, anyway, it’s been cold here. The guy I live with, who, as you can imagine, does a great deal of complaining, says there’s been snow on the ground for thirty-nine days now, and he even complained to the neighbor on my walk (the neighbor agreed, and said three days was more like what we were used to), but I pretty much like it. That’s me in the foreground, there, if you didn’t know. I’m surveying my domain. 16011608I admit the icy paths can be treacherous. This one got gravel sprinkled on it.16011609Most of the complaining takes place on my walks, with a lot of moaning and groaning, and the occasional expletive, coming from the other end of the leash.

The guy I live with says there’s nothing to do. But here is the latest batch of irises; seed started on the first of December.16011605And he has some reading material. He got this book from the Alpine Garden Society, and he likes it. The book, I mean. And the Alpine Garden Society, too, of course. The iris in the upper left hand corner is Iris hermona, from Mount Hermon, and that’s the kind of iris he’s growing from seed. Not that species, but that kind. Ultra rare, he says. 16011606And then there’s this book, which he says is also good, even though I’m not really neurotic, just uniquely focused. His friend gave him that book. 16011607“Every dog should know how to sit. He should not lie on the floor sleeping all of the time.” I’m not sure I agree. I think that if the guy I live with had his way, he would lie around doing nothing most of the time, and delegate all work to “associates”, who of course would do the work out of sheer love for him, rather than vulgarly expect to be paid.

I’ve met the guy I live with’s friend, by the way, and I really like her a lot. I think she likes me too, since I am, not to be immodest or anything, quite likable. (I notice he is a lot happier these days, too.)

I do of course have a dark side, which is truly terrible to behold. Today I spent some time velociraptoring the guy I live with. He doesn’t mind it much. You can see that I move with lightning speed, or even faster. 16011604The guy I live with might just be standing around doing nothing, as usual, sort of all la-de-da, and, then, quite suddenly, there will be this slight rustle in the tall grass, and here I come out of nowhere, flying through the air, teeth glinting in the moonlight, and ready to chomp.16011603I say that if people come to visit the garden they will have to buy Velociraptor Insurance. Check made out to me, please.

I guess that’s it. The guy I live with says that there are enough pictures of me in this post that I could easily leave you with a picture of something else other than me, and though I thought that would be much less interesting, I’ll show this picture of the garden at sunset, totally pretending that I’m not in this one too.1601609

Until next time, then.





This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

19 Responses to selling insurance

  1. Barb K says:

    Wow, that path in your yard looks lethal. Do you slip on it too? Nothing like packed icy snow to separate your feet from the ground in a very abrupt way. Sooooo, TGYLW is happier? That’s wonderful. Will the blog be appearing with a new name? And speaking of gardening what are those flowers on the book cover that look like a cross between an orchid and an exotic bug? I read that neurotic dog book too, but was hoping for more solid advice. I actually do live with a neurotic dog.

    • paridevita says:

      Yes, I have slipped on the ice, but only slightly, since I am very fleet of foot, as they say. The guy I live with slips just by looking at the ice. He says this is not “normal” for winters in Denver, but I wonder if it’s just more complaining. No, the blog will still have the same name. The guy I live with says you would have to try gardening here to know how frustrating it can be. Like, there are these snowdrops which flower in November, and he got some, and it didn’t rain enough for them to flower in November, and by the time they actually did emerge from the ground, the snow fell, and hasn’t left since. He says it’s like having someone stay at your house who talks about the same thing every hour, every day, and who won’t leave. But, really, when the guy I live with thought up the name, and told it to someone he knows, she laughed and laughed, and so he decided that would be the name. And, yes, he has a friend, now. it kind of just happened, the way things do. She’s nice. I thought readers might like to know. The plant you’re looking at is an orchid. Ophrys kotschyi. The eastern Mediterranean, including Greece and Turkey, is chock-full of these terrestrial orchids.

      • Barb K says:

        We read “High and Dry” and no thanks, we don’t want to try gardening there. Though, the appeal of having you for a neighbor, Mani, is very high.

      • paridevita says:

        Thanks, though the guy I live with says I’m kind of loud. There are squirrels, you know. “The weather is okay if you take a lot of naps”, according to you know who.

  2. Janet says:

    glad to hear things are going well in alpine garden country.

  3. Your happy news makes us so happy.

    I would be so scared to walk on that ice I probably would not go out at all, leaving The Noodle to walk himself around the garden.

    • paridevita says:

      Thanks; I go out all the time, of course, and have slipped on the ice, but the guy I live with is not very coordinated, carrying the coffee can full of bird seed and trying to fend off a velociraptor coming at him from its icy lair.

  4. I think I understand the guy you live with’s problem with ice, Mani, combined with the presence of a stealth velociraptor. Very tricky situation. The author Peter Mayle had a dog named Boy who wrote a book, “A Dog’s Life.” Boy took a critical view of the dubious actions and philosophy of his Management. You might recognize the actions and philosophy of a Certain Party, dear Mani. What a splendid snowy garden you roam in, soon – okay, sometime – to be graced with rare iris too. I especially appreciate the domain surveil and sunset photographs. Of course we readers like to know about friends. Friends are nice, and happy-making friends are nice to the max.

    • paridevita says:

      Thanks; well, if you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you already know that the guy I live with is kind of a nut. What’s wrong with a little ice? And a little velocirapting on the side? Otherwise the guy I live with would spend most of his retirement napping. He needs to be more alert, that’s what I say. Everyone needs more friends. I have a lot of friends, and I see them every week at Day Care. Did you notice that I’m in the last picture? The guy I live with didn’t, until he put it on the blog.

      • Honey babe, those ears are not to be missed. CAN’T be missed. And alert in my neck of the woods is a virtue. So is having more friends, happy-making friends especially. GO, Day Care!

      • paridevita says:

        Thanks; I thought I was being subtler than maybe I really was. Rest assured, I am always listening. Like, the other night, there were coyotes right on the other side of the fence, whooping and howling. I was ultra-super-alert. The guy I live with didn’t have his camera at the ready, so there wasn’t another scary atmospheric-type coyote movie taken in the dark with yips, whoops, and howls, like there was earlier, before I showed up here. (“In The Night”, if you’ve forgotten.) Day Care is very excellent. I love it. The guy I live with says there might be times when I go there and it’s not for Day Care, but to be stuck with needles, and I sort of guess I understand that.

  5. bittster says:

    It will be so nice when all the snow suddenly melts and spring explodes. That’s the payoff for patience…. although I can’t think of any other options to patience short of visiting warmer climates, so I guess it’s an enforced patience.
    There will be plenty of stalkable things soon enough and losing the ice will make you that much more stealthy!

    • paridevita says:

      Indeed. The guy I live with says the snow usually stops about the last week in May, here. March, April, and May are the snowiest months of the year in Denver and winters are supposed to be “open” and snow-free except when it gets really, really cold, and then there’s snow. That’s what he says. I guess he’s just not used to having snow lying on the ground “until the end of time”, though I also hear that things are changing, and he’s going to have to learn to live with the changes. I think everything is just excellently great, of course.

  6. SusanITPH says:

    Iris germinating should always make one happier, regardless of rarity.

    • paridevita says:

      Well, the guy I live with says that super-rare makes the event somewhat more exciting. So it’s even worse when they die. Which happens. But I hear that growing “regular” irises from seed is pretty fun, and mostly easy. You don’t have to wait twenty years, like you do with the ones he’s fiddling with.

  7. christine says:

    Irisies sprouting, “most improved” maturing purebred border collies (handsome,too), and new friends being made…sounds like a lot of new growth at your house, Mani:).

    • paridevita says:

      Indeed, even more improvements have been made just in the last few days. Guess who was Star Student at Day Care yesterday? (The guy I live with says that I think that lets me off the hook for stuff I do at home….)

Comments are closed.