Someday I will retrain myself to blog early in the day. I've used blogging for years as a way to digest my day and transfer memories to long-term storage. But I am often so stinking tired at the end of the day, and I have to battle myself not to skip "just this once." I'm very likely to have forgotten the things I wanted to discuss if I sleep overnight first before writing. It feels like a no-win situation.
I didn't have to babysit today, so of course the kids and I went shopping for hours. I keep thinking nosy people are going to harass us for how badly Dmitri howls when he gets put into the shopping cart. We try to let him have a little run time in stores, but he quickly takes off, as unstoppable as a little locomotive. Within a few minutes, it's cart time. Then he spends the rest of the time in whatever store wailing, "DOWN!!" It wears me out.
So while I was sitting in the house, trying to recover from two hours of trying to convince a two-year-old that he is, in fact, not being tortured, Mr S-P came in with another plant to show me. This time he had pulled out a length of bindweed that had sized up as it climbed one of our larger flower clumps. Not only did it have larger leaves, it had sport variegation. It was actually pretty! The variegation was similar to that of the manjula pothos I have been trying to acquire for six months. Doesn't mean I will allow it to take over my flower beds, though. The new family motto is: "All bindweed must die."
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