I take our pumpkin every year and put it in the back yard part that becomes ‘wild’ and where I put my weeds, and as November darkens and becomes December and January, I watch it rot. It suits the mood of November, and it’s kind of interesting in a ‘body farm’ kind of way. It usually composts itself down to nothing.
I keep hoping for pumpkins in the wild come summer, but none so far.
I think I have an interesting approach to gardening and yard care, come to think of it. I also like playing with rocks in the back yard.
I still have some Christmas decorations up, too. And we weren’t even in town for Christmas. Or else our tree would be sitting on the deck, I’m sure.
I have some street signs in the back of my car (not stolen, long story) that have been there for 2 years now. They make noise, they take up space and they’re getting all scratched up, but I haven’t taken them to the office. Or rather, I haven’t removed them while I’m at the office. Which is every day. My car is definitely the Pit of Despair - I never clean it.
I took down my 2 foot fiber optic christmas tree two weeks ago, to make room for my plants. I needed the lights on them because of to many cloudy days.
Mother insists on dying easter eggs, and they are all still in the refrigerator. I did think of them yesterday, but forgot to say something about throwing them out. She finally threw out the easter ham bone yesterday.
I’m impressed by HazelNutCoffee’s pumpkin, too. Also relieved for her that it’s on the outside of the window.
At my old house we set the jack-o-lanterns on the fireplace hearth each year. One year I tossed a seldom-used jacket over one of them and left it there until December. The pumpkin rot was fused to the hearth and took some mighty scrubbing to clean up. Yes, it stunk, and no, I couldn’t figure out where that awful stench was coming from. It had stopped stinking by the time I found it.
I have a bag of ice-melt in the trunk of my car from last winter. It recently developed a hole, so maybe I should think of taking it out. There’s a remote chance I’ll vacuum it (I wouldn’t hold my breath).
My car broke down in January and was out of commission for almost a month. I put all the “important” stuff from it in a box. When I got my car back, I put the box on the back seat. It’s still there, disintegrating, all the important stuff falling out the side onto the floor.
I live with my sister. All our Christmas decorations are still up. We never put up a tree, but we have garland on the windows and stockings up. We never got around to Christmas for the cats so the stockings are still full.
We also currently have no dining room table. It’s a butterfly table and has been folded and pushed against the wall to make room for a hammock we’re trying out for RenFaire. It’s fab and the cats love it, but I’d like the dining room back. It’s been up for about two weeks now.
I also still have clean laundry waiting in baskets to be put away (only from last week), the dishwasher needs to be emptied, and my desk has been taken over by a giant pile of papers. I’ve been too busy to do anything and my sister is never home. I’m cleaning house tonight. I swear.
I SWEAR the entire reason that mankind has relentlessly pursued the advancement of technology is so that people would have the means to share pictures of decomposing pumpkins on message boards. That was awesome.
I remembered another thing… last fall, my husband and I did a huge bedroom cleanup, and got rid of a whole bunch of clothes and old sheets and shoes, etc. The stuff that was good enough to donate was packed into bags and into my husband’s car, and the rest was tossed.
The stuff is still in the car. Due to the insane amount of snow and the fact that I now go to school and use transit, my husband has left his car, full of clothes intended for donation, parked at his workplace since… December? He may have taken it once or twice since. He starts it up and drives it around the block every week or so (I’m not sure, but he tells me he checks on it). Sooner or later we will donate this stuff.
Two pumpkins were tossed into the treeline of the greenspace where folks walk their dogs in my neighborhood. The big one finally collapsed to goo in February. The little one, just this month. And that’s in Florida, where it’s warm for most of the year! :eek:
My house is neat as a pin.
You could eat off my floors.
My garage, however, is another matter entirely.
My garage is the stuff of nightmares.
And lately, my nose has detected the sharp aroma of either paint thinner or turpentine that has somehow escaped the confines of its container, and now leaks slowly and patiently and with no doubt nefarious intent somewhere within that vast and terrifying landscape that is my garage. My two-car attached garage.
I have to deal with it.
Soon.
Really.
***BE ** * afraid?
I ***AM ** * afraid.
‘Within, walls continue upright, concrete slabs meet neatly, floors are firm, and doors are sensibly shut; silence lies steadily against the wood and concrete of my garage, and whatever walks there, walks alone.’
– with sincerest apologies to and blatant plagiarism of the opening paragraph of the best-selling novel ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ by Shirley Jackson (1959).
Y’know, I can’t stop clicking on that link. There’s something bizarrely compelling about that picture - something about the death and decay and lost hopes of winter, the bleak bare tree branches, juxtaposed with the swelling of new life in the buds, and the valiant struggle to survive demonstrated by the green leafy thing on the left.
…or maybe it’s just that it looks like an old person’s butt.
Either way, it’s way better art than that coming out of Yale today, so congratulations on a fine photo!
