insanity: (noun?) the act of repeating the same behavior expecting different results
So…if one were to subscribe to the above “definition” of insanity, then yes, technically, I could be considered 1) insane, 2) acting insanely, 3) off my rocker or 4) just really not playing with a full deck.
OR…perhaps I am simply an eternal optimist. And in reality, believe, that maybe, just maybe, this time will work out perfectly fine. Everything will be peachy-keen. Hunky-dory. All rainbows and pots of gold. (Enter whatever euphemism you think would fit.)
I like to think I’m the latter…an eternal optimist. Just like the Eternal Flame of JFK’s…never to be extinguished, always lit. I’m never to be beaten down…always looking up…trusting that all will be well and right with the world.
Ha! I am reminded of something that came across the computer screen a few days ago about the Eternal Flame going out. As in, not being eternal, but instead being finite.
So what does that say about my theory of eternal optimism? Not looking good.
But wait, I’m going for it. I choose the eternal flame of optimism…of Pollyannaism…of glass half fullness. I refuse to be beaten down by a bunch of low-life, no-good, evil-doing, cheeky, little bastards. (Sorry, forgot to post the R-rating for this one.)
What in the sam hello am I talking about?
I PLANTED MORE FLOWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In the very same flower garden that was decimated, DECIMATED, last year by those bloody rodents. (Sorry for the shouty capitals.)
We spent ALL blasted day out there…turning over the soil (thinking that perhaps, somewhere in there might be a root or seed from last year’s bountiful batch of beautiful blooms)…adding more topsoil…lovingly tending to the EXPENSIVE new buds.
Holding my breath and saying a quick prayer to the flower gods…I came inside. Not two blasted hours later, the first flowering plant disappeared. Really. It disappeared. Well, maybe I should use a different word…it didn’t ALL disappear, there were tiny traces of the marigold flower petals left on top of the soil…but nothing to be seen of the leaves or stem. And all because I trusted the universe and chose to be optimistic.
Stupid, stupid girl.
What to do…what to do.
Well…for starters…because we can’t just jump in the car and drive on over to the handy, dandy hardware store where we could pick up an ominous looking bird of prey statue, I did what I do best and came up with something just as good.
The stuffed ring-neck pheasant in mid-flight that was left in the cabin by the previous inhabitants of this oh-so-glorious place!
Maybe, just maybe, those cheeky bastards will be stopped in their tracks as they come to feast at Debby’s Floral Snack Bar. Perhaps they’ll take one look at the large, multi-colored bird perched on the edge of the flower garden and decide that maybe they just shouldn’t gamble tonight.
The darling daughter came up with a wonderful idea and then proceeded to diagram it so mommy could get it right. She thinks we should string up various birds of prey (an owl, a hawk and a falcon I think it was) on a zipline sort of thingy…wherein they would “swoop” down from on high, with moving heads and blinking eyes, and basically scare the bejiminy out of the creatures that would dare to enter the flower garden.
Well…as that is going to take a bit of thought, we’re going to have to be content with the ring-necked pheasant looking all dastardly as he is poised there at the corner of the garden.
And me…well…I am going to close my eyes tonight, with visions of flowers dancing in my head.
And wake up with an air of optimism!
Doesn’t that look like a pretty flower garden?
If you look closely at the 4th picture (middle row, on right) you can see where the marigold used to live…
…and no pictures of the ring-necked pheasant perched on the edge of the porch, staring ominously down through its glass eyes at the verdant valley below…sorry, got a little carried away there…but it was dark by the time we came up with this wonderful idea. I’ll post pictures later.