Mitch here!
Happy Saturday! Is it just me or does it feel like winter’s actually coming to a close? We’ve had three sunny days in a row, I’ve downshifted from heavy parka to light parka, and I even saw a misguided plant sprouting in the park yesterday. It’s just such a joy to write a “3” date instead of a “2” date. Life is (about to get so) good!
For the uninitiated, Lately with Mitch is a new thing that we’re trying out. (This was my first post.) I haven’t been yanked off the stage yet, so here goes nothing.
Topics I’d like to explore today:
Shopbop sale
Kelly’s post on the Shopbop sale went up a little late yesterday on account of parenthood, but you have to check it out. Apparently this sale is a big deal ,and she spent a long time going through every single sale item and rounding up her favorites. I was sitting next to her while she was doing this and I straight up fell asleep on the table before she’d finished. (Like, full body on the table.) But yeah. Check it out! Today is the last day of this crazy sale that every girl has heard of and every guy is like “Shop-what?” about.
Daylight cravings time
T-minus one week until the time change, people! I celebrate the end of the winter clock like it’s my birthday. I’ve seriously been counting down the days, and I might even make a cake with a big smiling sun on top.
But Mitch, who really cares? I mean, daylight savings is a good thing, right?
No. No, it is not. The time change is the exact opposite of what it should be. Consider this:
- Days are naturally shorter in the winter and longer in the summer.
- Our current “daylight savings” policy removes an hour of winter sunlight from the evening in favor of an earlier sunrise, which does not help farmers. My dad and brother are farmers. They agree.
- It doesn’t have to be this way.
I’m sure there are edge cases of weirdo geriatrics who prefer daylight at 6 in the morning, but I’d wager that more people are apt to make use of daylight in the evening. On the shortest day of the year, sunset is at freakin’ 4:30 pm! If it were up to me, I’d shift the clock in favor of evening sun next weekend and then leave it there for good. Who’s with me?!
The Garden of Death
Since moving into our house, I have planted, killed and replanted our garden three times. I’ve also slaughtered about a dozen houseplants. I even tripped and broke an artificial plant we had in the living room last week.
I’ve killed over 20 hydrangea, about a dozen ferns, plenty of peonies, and hella hasta. I’m an equal opportunity plant destroyer. Late last fall, I replanted the whole garden with 10 wintercreeper bushes, which is an evergreen plant known to “grow quite rapidly even in harsh conditions.” Spoiler alert: All 10 are dead. They currently look like they caught on fire.
I need help! I’m not entirely to blame for our seasonal plant murder session, though. We love living in a big city, but our garden is under constant attack from the Lincoln Park dog parade. Dog piss does not a happy garden make.
Any ideas? I’m not above putting plastic plants out there. Or maybe a plant hologram or something? Rock garden? Fire hydrant?
Clearly, the answer is a fence.
Noodle is fat
I wish I could make light of it, but we must understand the gravity of the situation. Our little Noodle is no longer… little. It turns out sleeping 20 hours a day and eating a steady diet of toddler flotsam and jetsam makes dogs portly, rotund, hefty and big boned.
But what are the owners of an amply proportioned dog to do? We’ve considered new, more fitting names. Udon? Manicotti? Lasagne? On the plus side, rolling over is much easier for her these days.
The vet says Noodle needs to lose two pounds… so its off to the gym! And by gym, I mean we are randomly knocking on the front door to freak her out and give her some exercise. Luckily, Noodle has a date with the geese at Lake Bloomington next weekend. She’s too pudgy to catch them and too confident to let them be. Perfect solution.
Have a great Saturday!
