2001-05-29
Dear Diary:

The man saps my will to live.

Some of you may recall that a while back I was exclaiming over the wonders of a fertilizer I found and how it was making even vines bloom.

However, not all was everlasting joy and happiness at the world headquarters of MarnCo, the multinational which brings you The Big Adventure. The purple passion plant (aka Satan's Fuzzy Purple Vine) blooming right by the spousal unit's desk had a perfume that could only be described as eau de sneaker morte combined with essence of cat pee.

Gleefully rubbing my hands, I left the offending vine as it was, expecting to see him reeling with disgust the first time he caught a whiff of it.

Nuh uh.

Never happened, eh.

It was Monday when I broke down and cut the couple dozen or so blossoms off from Satan's Fuzzy Purple Vine. At that point, as I was telling Terri, I half expected to have vultures circling the place, the smell had gotten so bad.

The spousal unit, who sits at a desk right by the plant, DID NOT NOTICE A FREAKIN' THING.

Even the cats were wrinkling their noses when they came upstairs, and these are veterans of litter boxes, for heaven's sake.

The only explanation I can come up with is that the man, having lived for 48 years above his feet, has developed special smell deflectors which save him from death by foot odour.

These deflectors must have kicked in and saved him from Satan's Fuzzy Purple Vine.

It's been well over 10 years since the hoya last flowered.  You can't imagine my relief.  And then--EEEEEEK.Just when you'd think that I have suffered enough, it gets even worse. The hoya plant growing above Satan's Fuzzy Purple Vine has burst into waxy bloom, filling the house with a super sweet perfume that makes me almost nauseous. THIS the spousal unit CAN smell and he likes it.

He LIKES it, and he won't let me snip the flower off.

You know, when you get married you make some big promises--for better or for worse, in sickness and health, for richer and for poorer, forsaking all others till death do you part.

But stinky plants? I don't remember signing on for stinky plants.

You know, it pays to read the fine print.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.