Not one I'd recommend.
Got up this morning after spending several hours lying in bed with a meh. And dealing with really odd dreams. My subconscious is clearly nesting again. Or at the very least heavily pregnant and covered in kittens. (Hello, Bast; how are you?)
Dealing with miscellaneous meh. I decide that it's warm enough to take my orange out to see if light and heat will revive it, and I also bring down the pot with the tulips my mother-in-law sent us. I turn around to go back inside, and see a box on the stoop. With the logo of the place for the plants I bought for my aquarium.
We were planning to go on a dirt-and-tank-purchasing run . . . on Friday.
Well. Panic mode.
teinedreugan is not unamenable to coming home and dealing with panic mode. I go out and get some things from the pharmacy down the road (my pots for planting the lilies in are too big for the tank). Got that. Scrambled to get food. Drove up to Ipswich.
I break this narrative to point out that near the place we get supplies for such things, there is a small, discreet sign: "Myopia Hunt Club. Members Only." Does this worry you as much as it worries me? Anyway, we were going by there, and there were horses and hounds milling about across the road from that. Very odd; never seen such a thing before. Sort of strange to know I live a half-hour's drive from that.
Plant store closed. Other plant store closed. Yet other plant store closed. Well, bugger. Went to get tank. I'm wondering if the parrot in the shop there was an eclectus -- it had hairy feathers and was the right shade of fairly flat green with the red and blue flash under the wings. Would have been a male if it were. Got tank, got heaters, got pebbles.
Wheeling the tank over the curb cracked it at one corner. Well, bugger. It was at the top of the tank; that's not as bad as it might be. And we were going to Home Depot anyway for dirt, so we got sealant too. Got dirt, though not the ideal sort of dirt for this purpose. Got bricks. Got rhythm. Got music. Dodged through vast hordes of of Fakus trees (if fig trees in pots are Ficus, then synthetic fig trees in pots are . . .). Got stuff.
He got paged on the way home with a borderline-bafflesome issue with the sattelite. Well, bugger.
Then we got into an accident and the passenger side of the car won't open anymore. Well, bugger. That made it interesting to get the tank out, as it was in the back seat.
Got all the miscellanea ready. Started working on plants.
It was just the irises.
This is the point at which I break down into one of these hysteriae.
Got up this morning after spending several hours lying in bed with a meh. And dealing with really odd dreams. My subconscious is clearly nesting again. Or at the very least heavily pregnant and covered in kittens. (Hello, Bast; how are you?)
Dealing with miscellaneous meh. I decide that it's warm enough to take my orange out to see if light and heat will revive it, and I also bring down the pot with the tulips my mother-in-law sent us. I turn around to go back inside, and see a box on the stoop. With the logo of the place for the plants I bought for my aquarium.
We were planning to go on a dirt-and-tank-purchasing run . . . on Friday.
Well. Panic mode.
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I break this narrative to point out that near the place we get supplies for such things, there is a small, discreet sign: "Myopia Hunt Club. Members Only." Does this worry you as much as it worries me? Anyway, we were going by there, and there were horses and hounds milling about across the road from that. Very odd; never seen such a thing before. Sort of strange to know I live a half-hour's drive from that.
Plant store closed. Other plant store closed. Yet other plant store closed. Well, bugger. Went to get tank. I'm wondering if the parrot in the shop there was an eclectus -- it had hairy feathers and was the right shade of fairly flat green with the red and blue flash under the wings. Would have been a male if it were. Got tank, got heaters, got pebbles.
Wheeling the tank over the curb cracked it at one corner. Well, bugger. It was at the top of the tank; that's not as bad as it might be. And we were going to Home Depot anyway for dirt, so we got sealant too. Got dirt, though not the ideal sort of dirt for this purpose. Got bricks. Got rhythm. Got music. Dodged through vast hordes of of Fakus trees (if fig trees in pots are Ficus, then synthetic fig trees in pots are . . .). Got stuff.
He got paged on the way home with a borderline-bafflesome issue with the sattelite. Well, bugger.
Then we got into an accident and the passenger side of the car won't open anymore. Well, bugger. That made it interesting to get the tank out, as it was in the back seat.
Got all the miscellanea ready. Started working on plants.
It was just the irises.
This is the point at which I break down into one of these hysteriae.
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And, posted here as well as commented to
The Myopia Hunt Club is pretty well respected: I haven't hunted with them (the one hunt I did was down on the Cape, and a drag hunt, not a real fox) but they used to hunt along the land my pony club used for competitions sometimes.
[Foxhunting terminology]
Drag hunts use a scent that is somewhat but not exactly like a real fox: this is to avoid confusing the hounds if they happen across the trail of a real fox. Besides being much kinder to the fox, it's also a lot safer in this day and age: intelligent foxes learned that if they go cutting across highways these days, there's a pretty good chance they'll make it across: there's a pretty good chance on any well-travelled road that some of the hounds or horses+riders might not.
Drag hunts are done by laying out a trail, and then letting the hounds follow it. This also has the nice advantage of being rather more predictable in length and duration and tiny things like land-use rights than real foxes, as well.
I've only hunted once - a drag hunt down on Cape Code that my Pony Club was invited to, but I had a blast, then. (they also pulled out all the stops for us: there was a formal Blessing of the Horse and Hounds by a local priest in full vestments and with incense in the middle.)
But Myopia also drag hunts, so, despite the name, I suppose it doesn't matter much :)
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Only if it's followed by a "Membership:
47332117" sign.From:
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I wish you much pleasure in the joy of plants blooming.