I felt like an old lady as I climbed the stairs a few hours ago. Old lady, pooped, that is, because of my busy morning playing in the yard, starting with a new plant called Kangaroo Paw. Don't you just love that name, Kangaroo Paw? The Husband and I bought it yesterday, along with Jupiter's Beard, Sedum Album, and Wonga-Wonga Vine. Don't those names simply appeal to your silliness? Jupiter's Beard. Kangaroo Paw. Sedum Album. Wonga-Wonga Vine. They ought to be featured in a poem or song. Anyone want to try? I'm being distracted by what's coming out of the Husband's computer: the King Earl Boogie Band performing "... I've got my Plastic Jesus riding on the dashboard of my car..." The Mama kept a plastic Jesus-on-the cross on Eliza Do-alot's dashboard, which we think still rests in Eliza's glove compartment. Drats. Where was I? We're supposed to have a few more days of rain, starting tomorrow, which is why I spent the mo