Alex enjoys the snow this morning, frozen drool and all. As I type it’s 16 degrees F and snowing. A perfect day for reading, knitting, playing Nintendo, cozying up by the fire, and making lasagne!

As the nights get colder we keep a fire going in the small wood stove in the sunroom and the cats like to cuddle and snuggle under a nice warm afghan.

Here is Sam.

eBay takes her turn at being all covered up. What a life!

Snuggle up with your best buddies and keep warm this weekend! Here in Jersey we’re expecting snow, sleet, and ice. BRRRRRRR!

Following on the heels of my post of yesterday regarding the stray begonias, since I’ve moved to New Jersey I seem to have acquired a Green Thumb. My houseplants that just barely survived in Colorado all flourished when we moved here. I had to keep repotting everything every couple of months. It was insane! A few months ago one of my scheffleras fell over and broke an entire branch, leaving it hanging by a thread. I thought to myself “I’m not going to just chop off all this new growth. Heck, no.” So I wrapped a band-aid around it and left it alone. It mended and is now sending out more new growth—healthy as can be. I kid you not! Look ...

Maybe instead of a Green Thumb I have Green Fingers. Have you ever read the short horror story by R. C. Cook called Green Fingers? It’s a little on the creepy side, but that’s exactly what I thought of with my new-found plant skills.

In the story, an old widow has a way with growing things. First it’s just her garden. When someone brings her exotic species of plants not known to her area, she plants them and they grow as well. She came into the habit of just pushing things into the ground; such as hair clippings, a fingernail. They all grew. Then she buries rabbit bones by mistake and lo and behold, they grew into a rabbit which eventually hopped off.  hmm….

Next thing you know she chops off her finger accidentally while pruning a tree in her garden. Yes, you guessed it: she sticks her severed finger into the soil. A few weeks later she observes a hand breaking through the ground; then of course, the rest of the body follows and it looks just like her. She’s not really happy about this alternate “self” but she can’t quite keep herself from checking on it everyday. One day she went out to check and it was gone. When she went back inside there it/she was, sitting in her rocker.

The newly sprouted widow kills the “real” widow and lives on in her place; complete with all her fingers. Sigh. Just goes to show you reap what you sow. Maybe the next time one of my plants breaks a branch off I won’t try to save it. You just never know what might happen.