This is How mrpeenee’s Brain Works


I miss trouble

Space here on earth is a finite thing, you know, and I say if your reproductive system forces you to use one of those stupid double wide baby strollers, you are taking up too much of it.  Sell at least one of those squalling snot machines you’ve popped out and make room in the grocery store aisle for the rest of us.

My garden, the result of two decades of grubbing and ruined manicures, looks swell this year, despite a statewide drought.  Purple seems to be the overriding theme with irises that I transplanted loving their new home


“City Light” iris. Wowza.


Limonium, taking no prisoners and kicking horticultural ass.

and a tough ass piece called limonium, the dried purple flowers of which, statice, are the filler of choice for florists around the world.  It does fine every year, but occasionally decides that this is going to be a “Say-Something” season and this year is just that.  The lily looking plants next to it are crocosmia, which bloom with bright orange flowers that look splendid with the purple statice on those years when they both bloom simultaneously, but this is not one of those years.  That’s how gardens roll.


Springtime in the French Quarter

pearl neon

My favorite neon in New Orleans.

I breezed down to New Orleans to check on the renovation of my house there and to check in on our old chum Magda.   The house is doing fine; Magda less so.  He will shortly have been incarcerated in the hospital system for a month and the doctors still have no clear idea about what’s causing his blood pressure and blood chemistry to roller coaster up and down and seem to regard this ignorance with a jaunty insouciance.

I was not much help while there; I was sort of unprepared for how much the whole experience of visiting the hospital would drag up visions of  R Man’s last uncomfortable days.  I know that’s selfish, but it was a very visceral reaction and one I could not get on top of.  I am ashamed.

st roch

The front porch of my soon-to-be ex-house. I would weep, but I have no tears.

Less traumatic than an old friend’s fragile health, but still pretty upsetting, is the news from my tax guy and my financial guy that my merry eviscerating of the IRAs I was living off of in order to finance the New Orleans’ renovation has actually moved me into a higher tax bracket, the rapacious taxes of which mean I will have to sell the house in order to pay the bill.  Irony.  I hate it.

13 responses »

  1. Beautiful Iris, flowers are just starting here, I can’t wait.

    The hospital thing really sucks but what are we supposed to do? I hate it from being there so often with my loved ones and now I’m going there for myself. It’s just not right and I hope they figure out Magda’s maladies quickly.


  2. What!?!?!??! Can’t you rent it or get an equity loan or have that Fred Thompson guy give you a reverse mortgage? I won a hard fought and pyrrhic victory settlement last year from an employor that is cleaning out older workers. I paid my lawyer $4k. I ended up paying $4k to federal and state income taxes this year leaving what they initially offered me for severance pay. But, it was fun and I learned a lot. I forced them to face what they were doing to older workers and I hope I encouraged others to do the same. This type of discrimination will only stop when the costs of doing it exceed the costs of keeping the older workers. How dare we use health insurance and take our 4 weeks vacation and know more about how things are really done than they do? Oh PeeNee, please keep us informed on the situation. Hell, I’ll rent it off you for a week.


  3. i applaud your attitude, at least the one you’re presenting here.
    having to sell a house you re-did & never lived in is awful.

    and all for taxes. in my newly married world, my tax bill
    moved me into a new bracket as well….a world where i stand with a sign at a traffic light.


  4. Starting out on buying my fiirst place, I feel for you. At least you and the evil yet adorable one aren’t sleeping in a Sally Army box yet!


  5. I really don’t like this news as I was so looking forward to meeting you in person, being just down the street and all. Perhaps things will work out. They sometimes do. Mostly for other people…


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