My birthday present on Saturday was a Yard Machine Rototiller. Many of you are probably thinking, "Wow, that is a really sucky present," and I would agree normally. I remember reading some article in one of those crappy magazines I used to have time to read, about a guy who gave his girlfriend a top of the line humidifier for Christmas. The point of the article was that while he seemed like a heartless prick, it was actually a very romantic present because the girlfriend suffered from sinus infections and she really needed a new humidifier. The reader was supposed to be touched by his sensitivity. My thought was why didn't he get her the humidifier months ago and buy her a real present on Christmas? So normally, yes I would have been less than pleased to receive a rototiller for my birthday.
But after a week of the husband trying to get the new heavy duty tiller onto the tractor only to find it didn't work, I had resorted to using a hoe in the tropical rainforest that is my garden so, the rototiller was a pleasant birthday surprise. Technically I asked for a push mower so I could mow the rainforest in the hopes that the husband would somehow be able to use that tractor he couldn't live without to actually do something I deem important, but alas that did not happen. I spent most of my birthday weekend feeling like Rambo wielding a machine gun as my birthday present jackhammered into the rocky soil.
I had a lot of time to think while my Yard Machine bounced up and down trying to dislodge yet another enormous boulder from the beds I have tilled in this garden for four years in a row. I really think someone is sneaking into my garden and planting large rocks every winter. It's probably the neighbor whose porch my rooster craps on.
One of the things I started thinking about was how my consumer interests have changed throughout the years. I would have been the happiest seven year old in the world if I had gotten another Fisher Price Lapsitter doll for my birthday.
In my twenties, when I was a size 2, my roommate and I spent countless hours clothes shopping. During TV pilot season when I had a little extra cash, you might find us at Cynthia Rowley or Agnes B but usually it was the sale rack at Betsy Johnson or one of the great thrift stores in SOHO where I found the cutest 1950's red and white checked swimsuit. Unfortunately, when I decided to wear it with a pair of three inch red and white check platform sandals it was a little less cute and a little more tranny hooker. Come to think of it, maybe my red and white check fetish has something to do with my Lapsitter doll, Mary.
My thirties was the beginning of my love affair with cooking. I visited most of the ethnic grocery stores throughout the five boroughs of NYC. I could spend hours perusing the aisles of exotic spices or strange fruits and vegetables. I even attempted to make Korean kimchi much to the chagrin of my roommate and probably most of the neighborhood.
Now in my forties my latest obsession is farm stuff. I use the term stuff, because there is no real category to put all of the merchandise you can find at my two new favorite stores: Brandow's Feed and Seed and Tractor Supply.
Brandow's is hands down my favorite shop because the staff is so nice and helpful but Tractor Supply has some of the craziest shit this city slicker has ever seen.
Do you need some tools? Sure. Tractor supply has all sorts of tools except the tool the husband needed to make the heavy duty tractor tiller work apparently, so I am actually not supposed to be shopping at Tractor Supply anymore.
I am not really a tool kind of gal though. I like all of the wacky animal stuff. Along with ginormous baby bottles for calves and all sorts of salves and herbs to make your (insert farm animal name here) healthy and productive, they have clover seeds to attract deer.
I wasn't really sure who NEEDED to attract a deer into their yard. I see at least ten a day in my yard and before we got the dogs, they would come right up to the house and eat basically anything I had planted. There are at least ten different brands of grass seeds you can plant so deer come scampering into your yard. It wasn't until I saw this one that I understood the purpose of planting tasty morsels for deer. I am pretty sure this camo couple does not have two pet bucks they luck to take photos with.
Does this strike anyone else as cheating?, It is definitely messed up at the very least. Planting this must be the hunting equivalent of pulling a Rosie Ruiz.
I now have the most genius idea. I am going to open a store that sells toys, super tight mini skirts, every condiment from every country on earth, seeds, and all sorts of farm animal paraphernalia. I am sure it will be a huge success, or maybe I just shook a screw loose while I was tilling my garden.
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