Death is upon our house

O.k. I give up. 

I am no good with plants and animals.

Even as I write this, I fear for the lives of my children...

It all started with a magazine, and to protect their anonymity their name will not be mentioned, but let's just say that when you read this magazine, one assumes things are gonna be very I'm all excited because I find a recipe, which gives me the impression that it's very easy.  I need a cup of this and tablespoon of that, and oh, of course FRESH herbs!  I fell for it - again!  8 out of 10 times, I never get around to cooking this herb infused concoction, and yet here I am handing over my $2 for a coffin shaped box of fresh herbs.   Sorry Tarragon, the hand of death put you in her fridge to slowly wilt and die underneath the zucchini.

What's worse is the death of Stevie...

Stevie was part of a co-op my husband and I joined for the enjoyment of our young daughters.  A gecko co-op.  Yes, Stevie was content eating his $.10 crickets in his little plastic cage, until guilt set into my chest.  I wanted him to experience his home even if through the blurred vision of his plastic penitentiary.  Putting him outside in his little greenhouse was not a good idea.  Especially in Arizona.

R.I.P. Tarragon, Thyme, Mint

In Loving Memory Stevie.


sorry, I'm not going to draw a shriveled up gecko.  I don't do that kind of illustration.