Not Friday

It has felt like Friday to me all day long.  It's not, but for some reason, it has felt like it.  Heh, I even got up this morning and tried to use my Friday finger to check my glucose level.  

Yes, I have a specific finger assigned to each day, and there is a logical reason behind it.  That reason being that if I poke the same finger every Monday, it has a whole week to recover before I poke it again.  Then, nothing gets poked on Sunday.  We all need at least one break every week. 

It didn't help that I also went to the store this afternoon instead of waiting until the Friday before a holiday weekend.  Tonight is also graduation, so I figured most people would be there instead of in Walmart, and in that respect I was close to being right.  There weren't that many people, and I didn't have to wait in line at all to check out.  

I only hope I remember to get up and go to work tomorrow.  He he he...

In other news, I hadn't planned on starting my native pollinator garden until next year, but I'd been looking at these tickseed plants for several weeks, and decided I really wanted one. 

Just for grins, here is an AI generated map of their native range.  

I'm not quite sure where I'm going to put it yet.  I've got a couple of ideas...If things work out, I might go back and get two or three more of these. 

While I was there, I picked up an English Thyme to replace the Rosemary cutting that didn't make it. 

I'll probably wait until tomorrow evening to plant it, since we'll be off Saturday.  I guess that means getting a pollinator patch ready will be the major weekend project.  And yes, I'll make you all look at it when I blog about it. 

Speaking of, one day I'll stop making you look at the littlest tomato.  Today is not that day. 

I can't help it.  I'm just so proud of how he's recovered and is growing like gangbusters.  As is my basil.  

I'm going to have to pinch some soon so it doesn't flower and go to seed.  I just don't know what I'm going to do with it.  I've still got pesto out the wazoo from last year, so that's not an option.  I guess I'll hang it to dry, at least until I get some tomatoes.  

And finally, I was talking with a coworker whose offspring is in something called "food therapy."  Apparently, the child is a picky eater.  I told my other friend, "I've never heard of food therapy.  When I was a kid, my food therapy was if I don't eat what Mama cooks, I go hungry."  

Food therapy...Sheesh, what will they think of next?