Last night our office/den/playroom/library room was kind of like a walk-in refrigerator. So I decided to put my five loaves of sourdough bread in there overnight instead of trying to cram them into the fridge. Brilliant, I know! Actually, it was my Mom's idea.
Anyway, somehow I forgot that tropical plants to not care to live in walk-in refrigeration units.
My poor, beautiful Angel-wing Begonia that I've been loving and tenderly caring for for years (and by "loving and tenderly caring for" I'm not counting the times I've knocked it off it's perch and broken branches, or forgotten to water it soon enough and had to mercilessly cut it back to bring back living shoots). It's such a lovely and exotic looking plant, given to me by a friend who moved away, from which I have rooted cuttings and started new plants to give away. It spent the summer on my porch and I just recently bought a new, pretty pot for it because it's been thriving and outgrowing it's own pot. And now... I'm not sure of it's survival of my arctic office. It's been getting sadder all day. There may be a branch I can save for a new start, but it was getting so big and beautiful. How sad.
I walked into my living room a few minutes ago and saw this:
"Ack! Jonah, what are you doing? UNdecorating our Christmas tree?"
"No, Mama! I'm picking apples!"
Right. Of course that's it.
So we re-hung the ornaments and commenced with some wrapping paper tube fencing.
It was a mighty du-ell!
He swashed and I buckled...
All rails and posts without the barbed wire.
And we ended in a tie of our equal tube-fighting prowess.
Can you say "cabin fever?"