lonely as a cloud

Greetings and salutations, everyone; yes, once again it is I, your popular host, Mani the purebred border collie, here today to bring you up to date on all the thrilling happenings here. Okay, well, not really, but I felt like I had to say something. You may remember me from such posts as “Passing The Time”, among so many, many others.

Here I am in a characteristic pose.
I think the photographer missed part of my tail. Maybe because he doesn’t have one and doesn’t think a tail is all that important, but it really is.

Anyway things have been kind of static here, lately. It snowed, like they said it would, but now that’s all melted, and there was a lot of damage to the garden. On top of the considerable damage to plants this past winter.
The guy I live with only partly cares about this, but there were some really irksome things that needed to be attended to, like the Paul’s Himalayan Musk rambler, that died almost completely back to the ground.You should have heard what he said when he started cutting this down and got jabbed by all the thorns. The guy I live with said they were prickles, and not thorns. Like that made a difference. His hands were all bloody.

At least there was wind, which is no longer as common as it used to be, and it was coming from the west. The guy I live with has been feeling sick, on and off, from the very strong perfumed smell of laundry coming from his neighbors’ house. The smell is often so strong that he has breathing problems, and can’t work out in the garden like he wants to. This has been an ongoing thing for quite a while now. I don’t talk about it much because it isn’t very pleasant. I’m not sure why people do the things that they do.

The guy I live with got the car fixed. That was a big deal. The car sat in the garage for a few weeks. He calls it our “metal friend”, because it can take us places if we need to go there. He had it towed to the dealer’s, and then towed back again. He has a friend whose husband worked for Subaru for thirty years and who told him the fuel pump was going. He trusted that information, so he had the fuel pump replaced as well as the oil changed, and all of that stuff, so I could go to the doctor’s to have my shots and generally be looked at. My doctor said I was totally excellent. I already knew that.

So then the guy I live with was going to go to the urologist’s next week, for a blood test, but they called and said not to come, because of the virus. And that was weird. He doesn’t mind going to the urologist’s because he feels well cared for.
The guy I live with has been looking at stuff about the virus, stuff posted by medical professionals, not politicians or talk show hosts, and even though he’s not squeamish at all, he is pretty creeped out by all of this. He doesn’t talk to me about it, though.

The thing is, he would really like to go out to lunch with his friend, or go with her to the botanic gardens, and right now he can’t. All of the plant sales have been cancelled or postponed. The Mother’s Day plant sale at the botanic gardens was something he looked forward to every year, partly because he likes being in crowds of people, and the “vibe” there (I didn’t know that word until recently) was something he enjoyed a lot.

One maybe ultra-odd thing has happened. The guy I live with went into the crawlspace yesterday and dragged out his old turntable.
It’s about thirty years old, but it’s not just any old turntable. He spent some time assembling the tonearm and attaching it to the mount on the turntable.
He said that, eventually, the downstairs bedroom will possibly get some new furniture and there will be a couch and maybe he’ll sit down there during the winter and listen to music on headphones, or something. A couch big enough for both of us, of course.
He gave away all the LPs that were in the house (a couple thousand, at least) after his wife died, so he might need to get a few. And headphones.

Maybe I should get back to some gardening. The guy I live with spent an hour or so in the front yard, working on things, today, so that the fence which had to be removed when the sewer drain was replaced could be put back. The front garden is still pretty much of a mess.

The juno irises suffered quite a bit from the record low temperatures we had when it snowed the first time. They were covered in snow the second time, but it wasn’t like that helped any. I forget which one this is.The main thing, though, is still the corydalis. Forms of Corydalis solida. The guy I live with purchased quite a few of these from nurseries overseas, in the Baltic states, but you can also get them from Odyssey Bulbs. Not all of these pictures are the greatest ever. I think this one is called ‘Going Rouge’; it came from Odyssey. I’m under the impression that this is just about all I have for today. The guy I live with says it might snow tomorrow, like this will never, ever end, but that then next week it will be close to eighty degrees. That doesn’t mean it still can’t snow, which I know is hard to believe, but snowing is something it does a lot of here, and often at the most inconvenient times. I keep hearing about how much the guy I live with wishes he lived in a place where it didn’t snow so much, but I know nothing will ever be done about that.


Until next time, then.

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20 Responses to lonely as a cloud

  1. tonytomeo says:

    Not many people know about prickles. I just call them thorns because that is what everyone else thinks they are. I am a horticulturist, so people think it is silly if I use words like ‘prickles’.
    Juno is weird. It sounds like it should be from Alaska.

  2. Mani – you are looking very regal in that first photo. but then you are the King in the house where you live so I suppose looking regal comes naturally to you.

    Regarding the title of your blog “Lonely as a Cloud.” It’s the start of a poem by Wordsworth (but I expect you knew that already). What you might not know is that the words exactly fit the music ‘Danse Macabre’ by Saint-Saens. It’s the sort of thing that once you know, you can’t get it out of your head if the poem or the music are mentioned

    • paridevita says:

      Kind of like the fact that Emily Dickinson’s poems can be sung to the theme of “Gilligan’s Island”.
      The guy I live with said to say that. It wasn’t something I would say. I prefer to be popular…..

  3. ceci says:

    What IS the rationale for stinky laundry soap? We inadvertently bought 2 jugs, both of which are practically unusable and make us itch where the clothes touch our skin, makes the dogs sneeze, etc. Unscented detergent is on order but in the meantime we are double rinsing, adding vinegar to the soap, etc. Doesn’t help you since evidently your neighbors LIKE the smell.


    • paridevita says:

      I don’t know. This has been an ongoing thing. It’s unbelievably strong. The guy I live with can’t spend as much time in the garden as he would like. The smell makes him sick.
      The guy I live with does like incense (the right kind), and some “discreet, manly cologne”.

  4. barbk52 says:

    More and more I think that Corydalis is something I need to have. I understand that most of them smell good, too, if one can get down there to have a sniff. Would the plural be Corydali?? When I’m out walking the dogs I smell that laundry stuff all the time. They make little pellets with no cleaning power, just to add scent that makes the clothes stink for weeks. Is that like when people used to perfume themselves heavily because they never bathed? But more toxic. Stupid.

    • paridevita says:

      The guy I live with says that “corydalis” can be the plural. If you got a few from Odyssey, within a couple of years you would have seedlings of all sorts of colors. George Baker is the famous red one, but there are newer ones.
      The smell is pretty invasive. There was a garden tour here a few years ago and it was broken up by the overpowering smell of laundry hanging outside (the smell lasts all day that way).
      This isn’t something I’ve talked about much but it’s become so strong and pervasive that it’s really beginning to bother the guy I live with.

  5. christine says:

    The jumbo irises are just lovely and such a soft color! Thanks for sharing! We get color-starved here in the Northeast and look forward to the greening and the colors blooming in the Spring.
    I’m a homebody, like you, Mani, and your guy, so I’m mostly content but miss being with family and friends, too. We all need to survive this that so we can be together again.
    Ever on, friends!

    • paridevita says:

      Thanks; the guy I live with misses his friend, who is now back here in Denver.
      He also misses the way things were here; he tells me stories about how happy everyone was. It’s pretty cozy here as it is now so it’s hard to imagine yet another level of coziness.
      It was a little scary here today, though, with some thunder.

  6. Mee-yow wow yore weather so much like ourss Mani! Iss a 5th Seeson: Swinter! Thiss iss aftur Winter butt beefore Spring! An yousss’ get it BIG time it seemss!!
    You look lovelee inn yore fotoss…such a hansum man doggie. An all those flowerss are deelitefull…speshelly THE Irisess (LadyMew’ss faverite flower)….
    LadyMew meowed to mee shee once had a turny table like yore “Guy’ss’ an lotss of 45’ss an El Pee’ss…whatefurr they are???
    AS fore Corona Virus LadyMew iss like yore ‘Guy’; doin propurr reeseerch an she sayss wee still not at “PEEK” here yet…iss goin bee a l-o-n-g Spring (if it efurr getss here….)
    ***purrss*** BellaDharma

    • paridevita says:

      “LP” stands for “long playing”, because the record turned at a slower speed that those that were common around the Second World War. Like a CD but different. There were a lot of LPs here at one time; after the guy I live with’s wife died he donated all of his to the local library, and then, later, all of hers. It isn’t that he would want any of those back, maybe, but some others.
      It didn’t snow here. Well maybe there were a few flakes this afternoon, but it was over fifty degrees. High seventies next week.

  7. Oh, Mani, you photograph so beautifully, even sans tail. I like your Inspecting the Garden photo because you look so happy to be out and about in such surroundings. Speaking of which, please advise the guy you live with all the photos are the best, especially the flowers, because they’re photos to look at when we been housebound for, what, twenty-nine years now. Plus, they’re great photos on their own. Has the guy you live with heard tell of GLOVES? Hand covering for encountering skin-tearing prickles while cutting back a rose. I know of such things because my husband just went by the book room window with streaks of blood down his arms. He’s out in public with garden debris on his way to the green waste containers, a very tasty sight for the public. When I pointed out his injuries he looked down, said (approximating) “pshh” and continued on his way. We have a perfectly good pair of gauntlet gloves of which he’s often told. We’d never be that unheeding and mindless, would we, Mani? Darn right we wouldn’t. “Use the darn gloves.” I feel strongly on the subject. Has your guy had a tetanus update? Lasts for ten years. He might want to check.

    • paridevita says:

      Thanks, lol, yes, he has had all his shots. Just like me. He used to have a pair of “rose gloves” but not any more.
      And leather gloves, but, you know, he is tough. I hear that all the time. His skin has gotten thinner as he has aged. Literally thinner, I mean. Sometimes he goes outside and within minutes there’s blood dripping down his arm.
      He keeps saying we need a gardening assistant but I’m not so sure.

  8. SusanH says:

    I hate prickles and found that if you cover them with carpenter;s glue and let it dry completely, then peel it slowly like you did when you were a bored kid, the glochids will peel off with the glue. Lean to save yur hands and use gloves too, please.

  9. Susan Hunter says:

    My key boa rd skip s.

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