ABC Wednesday: Tales from Toby

This week we have come to the letter T, which is perfect timing for my guest host today . . .

. . . Toby!

Good morning, everyone. Let me introduce myself; my name is Toby. The woman you know as Prairie Rose has asked me to fill in for her today as she is flying off to Phoenix, Arizona this afternoon to visit her daughter, my former personal assistant. I was more than happy to oblige as it has been some time since I have had access to this blog. Some of you may recall that I wrote a previous post in June when the Woman was feeling rather harried. If you would like to know something of my life history, you may want to peruse that article; otherwise, I will not bore you today with redundant details of my personal background.

The Woman will not return home for a week, and during her absence she has asked me to assume responsibility for running the household here. A wise choice, I believe, as the Man is rather lax about household duties, and the Young Woman who also lives here has no concept of them whatsoever. The Woman has tidied up and assured that all was in proper order before leaving, fortunately, including taking a few photographs of yours truly to illustrate this article.

I must admit this is a rather flattering portrait; however, I have tactfully suggested to the Woman that she enroll in a photography class to understand the concept of reflection through a window.

During the Woman's absence my major duty will be to supervise the Man and instruct him in proper methods as necessary. Laundry is not a cumbersome chore here, but nevertheless I no doubt will have to assist the Man in the proper settings of the laundering appliances.

Usually the Man depends on the Woman for instructions on the rare occasions he uses these appliances. Apparently, the Man was discharged from this duty some time before my arrival at the household. I prefer not to spread unsubstantiated stories, but I did overhear the Woman conversing one day that this dismissal had something to do with "shrinkage" and an occasion when "white underwear turned pink."

While I do not cook, my services may be called upon in the kitchen as well. The Man is capable of opening cans of soup and pushing buttons on the microwave, but I may have to point out to him the storage place for my gourmet dinners. The Man will survive, but I certainly hope I do not have to dine on that rather bland concoction called "Meow Mix" the entire time the woman is gone.

The Young Woman will need to be reminded of folding and storing her clean apparel. She has a rather nasty habit of taking clothes directly from the clothes basket to wear, or on occasion even buying new garments to replace ones she has misplaced. She will prove much more of a challenge than the Man.

Another rather tedious task I may be called upon to perform is entertaining the Young Woman's pet, whom she aptly named Coconut. Although I enjoy my hours of solitude for quiet contemplation, the canine needs frequent human stimulation to avoid lethargy or worse yet, falling into periods of depression. Fortunately, he is easily amused and an occasional mindless game of tag with me will probably suffice. It is unfortunate that he does not have a higher intellectual capacity so that we could engage in something more mentally stimulating. Nonetheless, I have promised to assist in whatever way I can, and I am a man of my word.

Egads, where did this photo come from? Does the Woman have no shame?! You would think a man could perform his toilette in privacy! Let us move on quickly...

The Man may also require some technological assistance in using the computer. Although he is quite adept at playing various games of cards, he is completely illiterate in other software applications. Currently, he spends several hours each day perfecting his strategy at Solitaire, as he has been recuperating for several weeks from a foot injury. The Woman did repeatedly ask him to accompany her on this trip--as did the Young Woman--but I suspect that she is secretly glad to have some time away from him. Likewise, the Man, I believe, is happy to have some respite from the daily chore lists and constant reminders that the Woman gives him.

I doubt that the Man will have any occasion to use the printer/copier, but I am quite adept at using it if the need arises. The Woman was quite surprised when I demonstrated my capabilities for her one day; I think she frequently underestimates my mental capacity.

The extra duties that I must take on during this period should not be too time-consuming and should allow me adequate time for my usual pursuits. I enjoy bird-watching from my favorite easy chair and have spent many a pleasant afternoon engaged in this activity. The large picture window also affords the perfect view of the driveway: if by chance, a motor car with some of the young Humans who often visit here drives up the lane, I have ample time to retreat to one of my secret places of seclusion. The young Humans mean well, I suppose, but they tend to be a rather rambunctious lot that disturb my quiet repose.

Evenings are often spent with the Man. A pre-dinner or post-dinner nap tends to aid in digestion, we have found. Afterwards, a few hours of television viewing often provide an entertaining diversion. I do hope the Man selects The History Channel or Discovery Channel; his predilection towards old Western movies or American football games are not quite my taste. However, either of those is preferable to the usual fare of "Law and Order" re-runs. One would think he would have memorized every episode by now.

Although I did state I would not discuss my background again, I did want to make one correction in my personal history. I erroneously stated in my last post that I was of Siamese heritage. However, a recent trip to the veteraniarian's office revealed that my heritage is actually Himalayan. This was a pleasant surprise. I am a faithful practitioner of the art of Zen, and I like to think that my ancestors may have preceded me in this pursuit, perhaps even studying at the feet of the Dalai Lama himself.

The week will go by quickly, and I am sure that all will go smoothly while the Woman is away. I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance and to have had this opportunity to spend some time with you through this enigma called cyberspace. Before I leave, the Woman has asked me to inform you that she may not be able to visit your journals while she is away, but she will catch up when she returns. I, in turn, will do my utmost to repond to all of your comments and queries if computer access and time allows.

I would also be remiss if I did not remind you that the ABC Wednesday posting is sponsored by a delightful woman named Mrs. Nesbitt and her colleagues at the ABC Wednesday Anthology.

Until we meet again . . .

Respectfully yours,

Toby, Esq.

Guest Post: A Word From Toby

"If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?"

--George Carlin

I just looked at the calendar and realized that next Tuesday is the beginning of July. Where did June go?? I have several summer projects and an anniversary celebration for my parents coming up by the end of July, and I really need to get busy on those rather than spend so much time blogging. So today, to save time, I thought I'd ask another household member to take over the blogging duties and write a guest post. But first, a little background on today's host.

I don't believe in reincarnation, but if there is such a thing, I know exactly how I would want to come back in my next life--as a cat. Not just any cat, mind you, but specifically Toby, the lord of our manor. Toby has his every need taken care of and spends his days sleeping and lazily exploring the grounds. Sounds like a great life, doesn't it?

Despite his aristocratic good looks and regal bearing, life has not always been easy for Toby. Nothing is known about his family, but his blue, blue eyes suggest some Siamese heritage. Like most of the pets here at the Prairie, Toby was a rescue cat. When older Daughter was in college, she dated a football player and became friends with some of his teammates. One of them asked her one day if she would adopt a kitten that lived in his apartment. I don't know all the details, but apparently he felt the kitten was being abused by one of his football roommates and knew Daughter was an animal lover. She naturally agreed and gave Toby a home in her apartment. He was rather nervous and skittish at first, but after some time relaxed and eventually became the laid-back character he is today. After college she and Toby moved in with us for a couple of years before moving to Arizona last summer. As much as she wanted to take Toby with her, she knew it was in Toby's best interest to stay here. He loves the farm: every morning and evening he explores the grounds outside and has even been known to climb a tree or two despite being declawed. And the farm has been good to him--once a trifle overweight, he's trimmed down with the exercise and now looks quite svelte.

And now, I will turn the keyboard over to Toby.


Thank you, Rose; I would be pleased to share a few insights with your readers.


Thank heavens, she has left the room. Now I can be frank and give you the true story on this family. The Woman fantasizes about being a mystery writer some day, yet she's never written more than the first page of a novel over and over again. I have given her many ideas from plot to characters, but she never listens, unfortunately. I don't know why; after all, Lilian Braun has done quite well with a feline protagonist in her mysteries. Instead, the Woman spends all her writing energy on this silly blog. Even then she has to rely on me as her muse and editor.


Some other aspects of her character that you may not know include the fact that she has a bad habit of hoarding. Just how many empty boxes does one person need? Of course, she is not as bad as the Man; he never throws anything away.

She even has three small aquariums in the garage, leftovers from a garage sale last year. It's no wonder they didn't sell; I've checked them out, and they are really too small to accommodate anyone but a small fish. I've recommended she throw them away, but once again, she hasn't taken my advice.

On the other hand, I did spend some time in her basement storage area this past winter and recommended a thorough sorting and re-organizing. Thankfully, she did take my clutter control advice, and now we can walk through the area and find whatever we need. I have been thinking about offering my services as a consultant to HGTV's "Mission Organization," but so far I have not gotten a response.


The Woman is also quite the scatterbrain. One day I had just settled in for an afternoon nap on a soft pile of freshly laundered clothes, when she came along and slammed the dryer door shut. I was forced to spend the entire night in the dryer until the Young Woman came to my rescue the next morning! The Woman blames it on the Young Woman, saying she had left the dryer door open with clothes strewn everywhere, but I fault her for not even taking the time to check who might be in the dryer. She was properly repentant the next day, but I gave her the silent treatment, nevertheless. It is important that such careless actions not go unpunished. Humans need to be trained properly to co-exist with us.


I used to have a companion, Max. In our youth we enjoyed recreational wrestling and other activities of the young. I am sad to say, though, that Max passed suddenly two years ago from an insidious disease. I miss him, but one must go on. May you rest in peace, old chum. There are other companions here in the manor, but I find them more annoying than entertaining. In particular, the pampered Pomeranian Young Woman refers to as Coconut is tolerable at times, primarily when he is relaxing or sleeping. At other times, he is simply an annoyance. He finds it quite amusing to play this little game of trying to prevent me coming inside after I take a little fresh air. I play along with him for awhile and let him think he has dominated me, but it really is quite tiring. I could easily overpower him, but I abhor violence and refuse to resort to fisticuffs.


There are also some other felines, but for the most part they remain outside. One female called Sasha comes in quite often and seems to be a favorite of the Man, but she is rather bossy and I've let her know in no uncertain terms who is the head of the house here.

My days are filled with activity. It's important to supervise the Woman in her housekeeping duties to assure that she does them properly. She is not a particularly meticulous housekeeper, although the house is presentable and she does prepare regular meals for me. The one area in which she is somewhat lacking is maintaining cleanliness in my downstairs toilet facilities. I really must speak to her about that.




Assisting in cleaning takes up some of my time, including the proper storage of out of season clothing in the bedroom.



Occasionally, I also assist her in her gardening. She took this photograph of me and published it on one of her posts because she thought it was "cute." How condescending! In reality I was trying to help her once again, measuring the depth of this planter and calculating the best types and number of plants to fill the container. It was my eye that concluded a purple and white scheme would complement the pink color of the planter.

I also assist the other humans in the house as well, although the Young Woman is not very responsive to my suggestions. I occasionally venture into her room; however, it is in such a state of perpetual chaos that I prefer to be elsewhere. The Man is a little more responsive though rather sedentary. When he returns home in the evenings, I sit by him while he ruminates over a crossword puzzle and subtlely give him hints to the answers. He has been known to sit for hours at a time watching a pointless game he calls baseball; during this time I try to nudge him occasionally to make sure he is still breathing.

The Woman finds it amusing that I have a penchant for empty bags, boxes, and even high closet shelves. She frequently interrupts me to take photographs to e-mail to the tall Young Woman who used to be my personal assistant. What she doesn't understand is that there is a method to what she presumes is my madness. There are small Humans that visit the house occasionally, and while one-on-one they can be polite and respectful, they can also be rather boisterous, especially in groups. I find it much simpler at these times to retreat to one of my previously discovered places of seclusion and enjoy the solitude until they have departed.

I find that an afternoon nap is quite refreshing and renews my energy for the rest of the day. Quite often it is the only time that I can sleep in solitude. At night the Woman and the Man like to sleep in bed with me, and it can get somewhat crowded. Apparently, they are afraid of sleeping by themselves.

Hobbies are also important to an overall sense of well-being. One of my favorite pastimes is bird-watching. I find that the large picture window in the living room offers the perfect vantage point for birding. The goldfinch feeder hangs from a tree directly in front of me, per my request, and I have spotted at least 8-10 additional species of birds in the front lawn at one time.

In the evening I take my daily constitutional: exercise is important for mental stimulation as well as for health reasons. In all modesty, this evening ritual has enabled me to keep my youthful figure. I prefer walking to more strenuous activities and find that sufficient to stay fit and trim. Occasionally stopping to enjoy the smells and sounds of nature is a pleasant and effective way to relieve the stress of the day.

Please note the stick at my paws in the picture above is for the dog, not me. The Woman and the small Humans are trying to train him to "fetch." He hasn't quite mastered the concept, not having the intellectual capacity that I have. Of course, I find such activities beneath me, preferring mentally stimulating games such as war maneuvers with the birds.

These maneuvers involve prowling stealthily along the ground for low-flying or unwary birds on the ground. Once my prey is spotted, I move in for the attack. I have startled many an unsuspecting bird this way. Do not fear, though; I would never harm a defenseless bird. It's all in good fun, although I do think some of the creatures have developed an actual fear of me; I have heard them refer to me as "The Great White Hunter."

Indeed I do have a very fulfilling life. The Woman has alluded to my dysfunctional family and and abandonment as a child, but I have put the past behind me. One cannot blame others for one's lot in life; in order to move forward, one must accept responsiblity for his own actions. I have created a pleasant atmosphere in my home so that it is a sanctuary for me, and supervising this family of Humans has provided me with a rewarding career. I plan to live here the rest of my life; frankly, this group of humans couldn't function without me.

It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I wish all of you a pleasant and enjoyable weekend.

Yours,

Toby, Esq.

Another Gardening Affliction

My husband thinks I'm a hypochondriac. He claims that when I read an article about a newly identified disease or condition, I think I have it. That's not true, although I have to admit after watching a TV commercial recently that showed a carload of gentlemen stopping every 15 minutes so that one of them could use the restroom, I exclaimed, "That's me! That's what I have!" The only problem was that it was an ad for a new drug to treat prostate problems. Well, maybe I don't have that, after all.


What I do have, though, is every disease identified by some very knowledgeable gardeners lately. Carol at May Dreams has written about GADS (for which she won a much deserved Mousie award, by the way); Jodi at Bloomingwriter has described UPSM; Gail at Clay and Limestone has MGP; and Beckie at Dragonflycorner has added DIPT. I have all of these conditions plus at least one more that no one has mentioned: EWS, otherwise known as Empty Wallet Syndrome. Before anyone accuses me of plagiarism (the evil deed I preached against for so many years) or taking advantage of the creativity of others, I need to explain that EWS is actually just the effect of a prolonged case of one or more of the other well-documented conditions, and so you will never find it in the Physicians Reference. The diagnosis is easily made, and its cure seems simple enough, but in order to alleviate the symptoms, one has to first determine the causes.


The causes may vary from one victim to another, but in my case I can easily identify four causes, the first being, of all things, blogging. Yes, you garden bloggers have contributed to my problem. Since I first became addicted to reading blogs a few months ago, my desire for this plant and that plant has increased at least tenfold. After two months of looking at countless photos of hellebores, I don't think I can live without having some next spring. Gail's perfectly pink phlox are next on my list, followed by more spring bulbs and poppies. I hate to think what my want list is going to look like by the end of the summer! But I don't want anyone to feel guilty for enabling me, because some good has certainly resulted from the enticing photos and helpful comments you've posted. For example, I've been looking for something to plant in my pet memorial, and thanks to Kylee's recommendation, I bought this lovely Rozanne geranium.


One reason I've spent so much this year is a logical one: I expanded two small flowerbeds last fall, so, of course, I had to buy more plants for these areas. I purchased another Walker's Low nepeta and some Oranges and Lemons gallardia for the roadside bed, and still need a few more plants to fill it in . But I have tried to be conservative here and in the shade garden expansion by sowing some seeds, ordering smaller plants from a mail order company, and dividing a few hostas. This means being more patient: the plants below are labelled "waterfall petunias." The label says they will grow to 5-7 feet, and in the catalog they were pictured as lush flowers cascading down a rock wall. Hmmm, we'll see in September if they are flowing over my porch planter.

I also ordered some coral bells and monarda from the same company. I had visions of a full border of coral bells around my shade garden this summer, but it may take a few years before these 3 inch plants develop into a "border." And the petite monarda were, well....petite.

My finances have also been stretched by a problem that most of us share, I would guess, and that is impulse buying. This is the first spring of my retirement, so I have had so much more time to dream and plan and go on plant shopping excursions with my friend Beckie (and even a few by myself). As Carol says, though, you have to leave a little room for impulse or spontaneity when buying plants. Otherwise, where's the fun? And I have been pretty good about this, though I couldn't pass up this heuchera, "Dolce Creme Brulee." I mean, with a name like that, how could you? I don't feel too bad about buying it, because it's going to do double-duty for me: filling in a container during the summer, then going into the shade garden for good this fall.

On the other hand, I'm not sure how this scabiosa got into my shopping cart. I don't know what I was thinking. Don't get me wrong; I love these pincushion flowers, but I've planted them before and they never come back the next year. So this one may be just an expensive annual.

Then there's what you might call the impulse caused by serendipity. I used to have cleome in my garden before we moved, and I tried to save some seed to plant here, but it never grew. After a couple years of looking for another plant, I found not one, but two different varieties last week, so, of course, I bought them both! I'm hoping they self-seed as my old ones did so that I can have a group of these eventually (away from the house--as bewitching as they are, they don't have a very pleasant fragrance).

And I just have to sneak in this photo--it's an impulse buy from two years ago. Last year this clematis (the tag is lost so I have no idea what its name is) surprised me with a few blooms on a single runner. This year, its third summer, it is covered with buds, one of which opened fully just this week. This is an impulse buy I will not regret.

But by far my biggest expense this spring has been annuals. I believe in the virtue of delayed gratification, but when I walk into a nursery filled with overflowing hanging baskets and blooming supertunias, super verbenas, million bells and all the other colorful annuals, I lose all self-control. I'm getting woozy just thinking about it now. Couple that desire for immediate color with all the containers I have, and you have a recipe for financial disaster. Container plantings are great for adding pizzazz to patios and spots where you can't plant, but I think I have gotten a little carried away. Every year I seem to add another pot or two to my collection, including a pink fiberglass one I showed in an earlier post that I just had to have. I spent a lot of time envisioning just the right combination of plants to fill this pot, but then I couldn't decide where to place it. Every day I would set it in another corner, trying to select the perfect spot. Toby was not so indecisive; he knew exactly what I should do with this planter.

Filling the containers can be an expensive proposition since I usually rely on annuals. I started out very organized, making a list of all the plants needed for each pot and carrying my notebook with me every time I went plant shopping. The problem, though, is that I couldn't always find every plant I wanted at the garden centers I visited, so I would come home with 3 plants for this pot and 3 for another, but never everything needed for each container, necessitating yet another shopping excursion (and then another and another...). And when the impulse shopping kicked in, I would buy something that didn't go with anything else. For example, these yellow fusion impatiens were so unusual I just had to buy a small pot. They were rather expensive so I only bought one. Now I need to buy more to fill in the container.

Like any addict, I have resorted to deception to hide my addiction from my family. Before setting off on another shopping spree, I try to plant as many of the flowers that I already have before bringing home another few flats, and I unload the minivan only when my husband isn't around. Amazingly, he doesn't seem to notice the proliferation of trays and pots on the front porch, but my daughter does. She caught me unloading the car one day last week and scolded me. "Oh, MY gosh! How MANY plants are you going to BUY? Can you AFFORD all of these?!" I just smiled and replied sweetly, "It's ok, honey. I'm just spending your inheritance." She was not amused.

I've even had to resort to some creative financing to support my addiction. I found some gift cards from Lowe's and Meijer's I'd never used, so I bought some basic annuals there (interestingly, that's where I found the two cleomes). But to show you how desperate I have become, last week I even agreed to substitute one afternoon for an English teacher, knowing full well that the job included teaching " the class from hell." During the hour I spent in this class filled with every troublemaker in the sophomore class, I kept my calm by inwardly repeating this mantra: "more flowers, more flowers..."

I'm afraid it's too late to try to cure me this year. I'll make it through the season somehow, even if I have to resort to serving peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner three nights a week. But next year things are going to have to change. As I said earlier, the cure is easy enough: stop buying plants. But the patient has to be ready for such a drastic cure, and I'm not. Before I seek debt counseling or my family checks me into plant rehab, I'm going to try some other less drastic measures.

First, I'm going to try to plant more seeds in early spring. My experiment with seedlings was less than successful this year, but I think I've learned from my mistakes. Secondly, I'm going to try saving some cuttings from this year's annuals. Several of you have already given me some tips on how to propagate plants I didn't know you could keep, and I am going to read every single tip on propagation in your posts this fall. And finally, I am going to welcome any and all passalong plants. I already have the hollyhocks my mother gave me, and Thursday Beckie and I swapped some extra plants we each had. A year ago last fall my aunt divided her irises and lilies and asked if I'd like some. This stand of irises is the result of that windfall. Maybe she'll do some more cleaning and thinning in her garden this fall.

Yes, I'll find a way to beat this affliction/addiction. But first Beckie and I are planning one final (?) plant shopping trip this week. But this time I am STICKING TO MY LIST!