The Case of the Vanishing House Plant

Believe it or not, this ragged little piece of greenery is apparently a hot commodity.

This morning started out much like any other.  The alarm went off way too early.  Mr. flyskim, who is the sole reason for the early alarm thanks to his after-work volunteer gig, lazed around in bed while I got up and fed the cats, had breakfast and got ready for work (i.e. watched some music videos, checked out the new arrivals at Anthropologie and hunted for spoilers for tonight's episode of Glee).  We were leaving the house when I noticed the theft.  Someone (you know who you are and I hope you're ashamed of yourself) stole the plant off our front porch.  I know this might not seem like much, but I've led a pretty sheltered life aside from being held at gunpoint that one time when I was working at the Gap, and I felt pretty violated.  Surprisingly, more so than when my car went temporarily missing five years ago.

First, I swore up a blue streak (I never swear), and then I threatened to walk the neighborhood in search of the missing plant.  No, seriously.  Ask me about what I had planned the time I thought someone was peeing on our hydrangeas.  What?  My college roommate killed my fish (the ironically named Poisson) by dumping vodka into its fish bowl.  I realize that I was a little rigid and more than a little pretentious when I was 18, but who wasn't?  And that fish did not deserve to be pickled no matter how unbearable I was.  I've been a little possessive and paranoid about my things ever since. 

Anyway, Mr. flyskim was appropriately worried because I would totally do this.  Okay, I totally did do this.  Sort of.  I took the long way home from the bus stop and checked out every porch along the way.  Yes, my Nancy Drew sleuthing skills are still razor sharp.  And there it was on the porch of the house two doors down.  Which just supports my theory that the plant was just too heavy to steal in the first place.  Or someone what playing a joke.  Whatever.  I've reclaimed it, and I'm supergluing it to the steps tomorrow.  It might not be much of a plant, but it's still alive and green after a month in my care, and I like it.

Oh, and we've been getting a little last-minute summer here in Portland, and our garden is finally producing tomatoes.  I suspect there'll be more than we can deal with, and there's a lot more squash on the vine as well. We've replanted our potatoes for an early winter harvest, and we have a couple of peppers ripening.  As you can see below, we've had a pretty good year garden-wise. 

Hyde has temporarily forgotten that cats do not like tomatoes.

So, still working on the fitting issues for Lady Grey.  I've almost got it figured out, and I'll have more muslin details in the next day or two.