her able hands

I know just enough to use one, and just too little to screw it up royally. My computer, my dear, sweet, loud-ass G4 has a split personality. It has given itself two users and two system folders. I can’t find the old one, but it’s here somewhere. Here with all of my settings and preferences and my life. Instead, I’m working on a desktop and hard drive that are acting like a clean install of the system. It won’t allow me to upload photos to iPhoto because my library was created using a newer version. So not only am I working with a whacked out new install of OSX, I’m stuck with old versions of the software I need. I’ve got an appointment to bring it to work next Tuesday to have our Mac IT consultant give it the once-over.

This means I can’t show you the poorly lit and barely composed pre-caffeine shot of the asparagus and dahlia crowns I took–still sitting in the cardboard box on the dining room table. Well, then, you say, that’s not such a bad thing is it? Poorly lit and barely composed? Hardly worth sharing. But no! I wanted to share it with you! It’s live plants, you see. The first I’ve ever purchased by mail order (excepting the two fruit trees I bought last year and then promptly gave away because oops, turned out we were in the middle of negotiating for this house when they arrived and we weren’t sure what to do with them).

But this is so exciting to me. Doubly so because they apparently arrived in the mailbox on Saturday. After I had picked up the mail on my way back from grocery shopping. Mail that must have been from Friday because we had the day off and I don’t think I left the house for anything except to feed the animals. So it sat in the mailbox overnight Saturday, and all day and night Sunday. The temperatures ranged from 23-33*. I stopped at the mailbox Monday morning to drop the Netflix returns in and lo and behold, there sat the big, brown box. My mind flashed back to the email delivery reminder I had received on Thursday and my heart fell. I imagined opening the box to a frozen, mushy mess, and set the box on the front passenger seat and put off the task until I returned home that evening. No damage! They’re absolutely fine! Now wouldn’t it be nice if I could show you that?

Well, I’ll have these issues worked out by the time I get them outside to plant and will take lots of pretty pictures of the crowns spread out like wild fingers—thick and thin—tickling the soil.