A minor rant

[pegkerr]

Remember that ghost plotline in pameladean's Tam Lin? Janet discovered that whenever she tried to think about the ghost, her thoughts would hare off in another direction; ANY direction, and she could never think about the problem clearly. It was as if there was something about the ghost that set off a thinking-baffler, especially in her dorm building.

I have thinking-baffling zones in my house, too.

The one that is bugging me the most is my front porch, and to a lesser degree, my back stoop. As best as I can map out the parameters, at this point, it encompasses the plants on the porch. For some mysterious reason, for everyone except me, the thoughts of people in my household mysterious skitter off to other subjects, whenever there is a necessity to Think About the Plants on the porch.

Here's the way it works: most days I remember to water the plants on the porch, and the hanging basket above my back door, and the plant on my back stoop. Sometimes, however, for some reason I don't have time, or I call home to ask one of the girls or Rob to do it, because the day is so hot they need to be watered twice in one day.

It is truly amazing. There is a thinking baffler around those plants. No matter what I do, once I make the request, it immediately drops out of the brain of the person of whom I have made the request. I'm talking within seconds.

This is irritating, I will admit. I spent money on those plants; I want to keep them looking nice. I want to keep up the house's curb appeal.

And it is infuriating that no matter how politely or stridently I word this simple request; Please water the plants it will never never never get done unless I do it myself. Even if they have agreed that yes, they will do it.

It may be related to the fact that I think I am the only member of my household who has pulled a weed on my property for, oh, probably most of the past ten years. It is, mysteriously, somehow a Mom Job.

But the forgetfulness. Well, that can only be a thought-baffling zone.

(Or, perhaps, a ghost?)

Comments

[diatryma.livejournal.com]

My mother hates my stupid brain trick for remembering to water her hanging baskets-- I don't water them because they're high up, so I don't see them or remember them, and I dread it anyway because they're just at the height where lifting several gallons of water is tricky. If she's gone for a while, I put the plants down lower, where they'll catch more rain and where I can water them when I do the rest of the plants.
It's something like five watering cans by now. So very many containers!

I agree with the other commenter who said it's impossible to remember to do things one doesn't care about. I like the garden and don't have anything else going on. The others don't and do. I'm the one who gets the workout with the watering can.

Anyway. Sympathies on the containers, and I bet they look great (I like containers).