To tell the truth, I hadn't even considered the olfactory consequences of today's lunch--a hearty, spicy black bean soup coupled with a side of whole wheat crackers topped with slices of extra old cheddar cheese.

Well, a few hours later I realized the power of cheese coupled with mass quantities of fiber. Oh, did I EVER realize it.

Every time she hears the toilet flush my cat Zoe has to come to the bathroom and investigate the situation. It's one of her many quirks. Right on cue she appeared.

She froze in the doorway as the horror of what had just occurred in that room washed over her. You could almost see the thought balloon over her tiny black head:

"JEEBUS H. RICE, MARN, DID SOMETHING JUST *DIE* IN THIS ROOM OR WHAT?"

A dog would have raced into the noxious fumes and tried to drag me to safety with no thought of the personal danger it faced. Being a cat, she quickly abandoned me to my fate and ran upstairs to scrunch herself up into a tiny ball on the corner of my bed, hoping against hope that the hideous gases would not rise that far.

Really, is it any wonder that I'm such a cat person?

I think not.

In other exciting news (oh yes, there's even more news because here at MarnCo, the ruthless multinational behind The Big Adventure, we believe there is nothing too picayune to be considered news) I officially began My Life of Crime on Sunday.

And, in the spirit of our times, it involved insider trading.

Sunday was the day of our little village's plant exchange, a brilliant idea thought up a few years ago by my friend and neighbour, Gail.

See, the deal with perennial gardens is that most plants multiply so quickly that within three years or so you have to thin out your garden or things start to suffer. But what to do with the plants you've thinned out? Sure, at first you can open a new bed or two, but at some point you get overwhelmed and, well, you basically have to start throwing stuff out.

Ouch.

Well, most everybody around here has gardens, so most everybody around here has faced throwing out perfectly good plants. BUT thanks to the plant exchange, we now get together once a year and share the wealth. Sure, I may have hostas coming out of my wazoo, but one of my neighbours might have a bleeding heart I've been coveting for years. We each rummage through the pile, and all of us come home with something wonderful and free.

Sunday morning a few hours before the swap, I got a phone call from my buddy Eddie. His girlfriend, the Luscious Dawn, wanted to buy some maple syrup. Knowing we'd meet up at the plant swap, she wanted to arrange for me to bring some with me. In the course of the conversation, it was mentioned that I'd be bringing hostas to the swap. Dawn wanted hostas.

I told her we could meet up at Gail's and I'd give her some hosta along with the maple syrup. Technically we weren't breaking the rules of the swap because I'd decided I would dig up some extra hosta just for her. Up to this point it was all innocent, but as we all know, the road to heck is paved with good intentions.

Dawn and Eddie were parking in front of Gail's when I arrived, so I walked over to his car with syrup and hostas in hand. They opened their trunk and There It Was.

A clump of a very lovely, electric blue, short veronica.

Blue plants make me weak in the knees. Lust filled my heart. I Had To Have It. A more principled woman would have hidden her desire and done the ethical thing--waited for Dawn to put the veronica in with the other swap plants and hover by it, hoping that no one would snatch it before I could.

But the thing is, I'm a veteran of these plant swaps. I'm telling you, I'd rather jump into bloodied water with crazed sharks than try to compete with some of my neighbours over a particularly tasty plant. A person could be wounded, and wounded badly.

So right there, out behind Eddie's car, I did it. I begged the veronica and then proceeded to sneak it over to the trunk of my own car. I know. I'm as shocked as you are. I later scored a lovely little pink bleeding heart with bluish leaves legally from Jeannie. The two of them are sitting in my pond while I prepare a place in my garden for them.

Yep, Sunday I began my life of crime. As I see it, it's just a matter of time until I'm doing garden b & e's, eh?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 308.12 miles (495.8 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers