This is my Clivia plant. We’ve had it since its babyhood, an offshoot of our friend, Marsha’s, plant. They usually bloom for the first time in their fourth year. That year, of its first bloom, Marsha was here for a visit. As she entered the house, Chuck exclaimed proudly, "Marsha, I can’t wait to show you the chlamydia you gave me!"
What followed was a good example of a pregnant pause. Swirling around in my mind were things like "She gave you WHAT?" or "That’s a fine Howdy doo." Marsha is a nurse and I did a stint as a social worker in a sexually transmitted disease clinic so we are well aware of the C word. Chuck, however, is a Minnesota farm boy, not exposed to such things, and innocently confused his plant with his STD’s. That was a laugh so hard you could pee your pants memory. I’ll bet you all have some of those and I dare you to share them.
I’m needing some laughs what with the wedding, the skunk and my mom not reliably on her meds. But just when you think you have it bad, you hear a worse story. My friend’s daughter is getting married in early August. It’s kind of a hippy wedding on a farm.The invites asked people not to bring their dogs to the ceremony; you get the idea. It’s very wholesome down to the vegetarian option on the reception menu. I guess we’re wholesome, too, offering veggie food, but they have an interesting problem that thankfully, we don’t share. Since sending out the invitations, four of the guests have died; including the groom’s father. She’s calling it the kiss of death wedding. Calgon take us away. Now.
Life's a Stitch 
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