Which of the following answers best expresses the
reason you take soap and shampoo from hotel rooms?
a.
___
Because I like the brand.
b.
___
Because, hey, I paid for those.
c.
___
Because I am frugal.
d.
___
Because I like the miniature sizes for packing.
I am mostly about the brand.
—Mitchell
Hegman
We have “his” and “hers” houseplants in our home. What that really means is that I had six plants before Desiree landed here in Montana. These are the “his” plants, and I continue to care for them. Since her arrival, Desiree has added some 12 to 15 thousand new plants (at least it seems like that many). These are the “hers” plants, and Desiree has assumed care of them.
Yesterday was watering day for the “his” plants. In
a recent installment of this blog, I mentioned that my hoya (a “his” plant) is
undergoing a tremendous growth stage right now. What I neglected to mention is
that the hoya’s vines have completely sheathed the planter. The vines are so
intertwined and tough to spread apart that I had to invent a watering system to
reach the soil in the planter. I went with something simple: a long funnel.
I am sharing two photographs featuring my hoya
watering system:
—Mitchell
Hegman
I am the first one up in the morning here at the Hegman household. Desiree typically sleeps in for an hour or two. If I need to wake her for any reason, I sneak into the bedroom and do so with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek or forehead. Just thinking about waking Desiree with a kiss is pleasurable. I have even come up with a word for it: “ankissipation.” It’s first cousin to “anticipation” but has a kiss added for a gratifying twist.
—Mitchell
Hegman
“Save a boyfriend for a rainy day - and another, in case it doesn't rain.”
— Mae
West
“The
first rule of intelligent tinkering is to save all the parts.”
— Paul
R. Ehrlich
“Which
painting in the National Gallery would I save if there was a fire? The one
nearest the door of course.”
— George
Bernard Shaw
“The
urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule.”
— H.
L. Mencken
Fortunately, I have never used the word “tintinnabulation” in conversation in my entire life. I don’t recall ever using this word in anything I have written, either. I do recall reading the word in a novel and having to stop so I could look up the meaning in an old-timey unabridged dictionary – you know, the big book teachers made bratty kids hold over their heads when they disrupted class.
In
the event you are unfamiliar with “tintinnabulation,” it is a noun representing
a ringing or tinkling sound. This is not a word that exactly rolls off the
tongue and actually strikes me as something that might have been invented by a
committee of drunken metallurgists.
Frankly,
I think the word “tinkling” is just fine and doesn’t need any help from
tintinnabulation. And tinkling also has the added benefit of providing the
following double entendre: “I tinkled when I went outside.” Anyhow,
tintinnabulation popped into my head while I was, of all things, chopping
onions and more or less crying. And now I am thinking we can run with the word
tinkling from here and throw tintinnabulation out with the onion skins.
—Mitchell
Hegman
Desiree and I spent another early evening scratching through sapphire pay gravel, seeking a sapphire worth faceting and setting in a ring. We found plenty of small stones. We also found one of the largest sapphires I have seen in a while, but the large stone is fatally flawed.
I am
sharing two photographs from our latest efforts. To be continued…
The
Entire Collection
Fatally Flawed
—Mitchell
Hegman
