Greetings all. Have you ever put your foot in your mouth? I’ve had my moments, that’s for sure, but not one for sometime, until now. Since Steve and I live in a very small town, it is only a matter of time before contact with members of the community will be made. I’ve officially met two of them now. The first community member I met had apparently filled in the second member on all the scoop he’d learned from me. No biggie, that’s how small towns work. So, I was outside searching around for one of my cats when I encountered community member number 2. A very nice woman and we chatted it up. Topics went from work, to family, to the small town. I started talking out my ass about how small towns were great, but can also have a false sense of security and bad things can happen. Then I said, in reference to false security, “like that kid who stabbed that guy that was in the news not too long back.” Community member number 2 says quite dryly, “ya, that was my son…” Foot. In. Mouth. I could have died right there.
I think Steve was impressed with my amazing faux pas and laughed at me, which of course got me laughing, so I thought what the hell, I may as well share it with everyone. Other than that tasty tidbit, I don’t know much. I have been working on the garden. It is beyond me why someone would plant thorny awful blackberry vines and let them turn into crazy brambles. I decided to get rid of them and after many war wounds and lots of swearing I finished up yesterday. One thing about brambles, or what leads to a said bramble. When a blackberry vine (or raspberry vine I imagine) is allowed to grow out of control, and the tip of the vine arcs back to the ground, roots grow from that tip and begin another bramble! In addition, you can’t brush up against any part of the vine cause it catches on your skin and clothes, just awful. So, I’m sorry to the one who probably planted one innocent vine and had sweet dreams of blackberry tarts, because that dream morphed into a freaking nightmare. But I conquered and vanquished those brambles and tossed them away. Good riddance!
I hope the brambles are truly gone, they have the deepest roots! We had a whole yard of them in Seaside, and Terry would bravely go out with his trusty weed eater to do what damage that he could. The first time was the worst of course, he came back looking like Jesus on the cross—so many cuts and tears on his body, bleeding everywhere. Oh those brambles are smart; they’ll stay laid low until you pass them, and then they whip out and slap you. Good luck keeping them under control!! I have no idea how the deer and elk manage to get through them….
Wow, foot in mouth indeed, but there’s no way you could have known that…and I guess it might keep that neighbor from gossiping about you…or not ha.