The Friday Report

I know why I love my old ladies: they think I know everything. And I'm not just saying that; I am quoting. This morning, my liberal friend pulls an orange wooden thing out of her bag. It had been left in the laundry room which in her retirement home is where people leave things they don't want anymore. It looks like the one on the left except it is shaped like a little girl or doll. Above the ring, there is a head with a face painted on it, and at the bottom, the dress flares out. "Nikki, what is this?" she asks. Since I am looking at my stitching, I almost ask, "how the fuck should I know?" which is pretty much my standard answer around the house. I see the point below the dress. "A top?" Suddenly the room is abuzz! I'm a genius! "I knew you would know!" Seriously? This is who I am? Diagnoser of discarded toys? Then I am supposed to make it work again. I did say I would take it to my cousin, the mechanical engineer, but there were enough ladies there who were game enough to try to make it work. They almost succeeded. I was also asked to identify other things, like the plant "blue mist*" (caryopteris clandonensis) and what kind of show "Sprout" is and when it is on (it was filmed in one woman's neighborhood the other day). Apparently, I am a walking googlebox which is pretty good for a woman without a smart phone.

Nemesis hasn't been at these gatherings. She has something wrong with her eyes and is having surgeries. But she called me the other day. She has some plants that someone gave her, but she can't keep them because her cat tries to eat them. Would I like them? You'd think this would be a five second phone call, but no. I have to learn the circumstances under which the plants came to be in her possession, how it was she had tried to avoid receiving the plants, the other people to whom she offered them, the fact that I had to repot them and return the original pot to her, where she lived, how she might be reached and on. I have rejected so many of her offers (aging and ancient craft supplies) that I had no choice but to say yes. The fact that I have no flat surfaces on which to stash more plants was no mitigating factor.

But you know, I'll figure something out. I am a genius after all.

*A carryover from last week. I don't know this off the top of my head.