The Ancient Cohachellian Art of Cacti Arranging

Lonesome Cacti
Lonesome Cacti

My three weeks of antique hell will soon be coming to an end. It hasn’t been easy living in a 450 sq foot apartment filled with 400 sq feet of collectibles. The only refuge is the king size bed.

There’s a path to the kitchen for victuals and a path to the bathroom for the other things. Two days this week I couldn’t even shower. Not only was the shower door blocked but the stall itself was full of one of a kind items.

My new antique booth becomes available on Monday and the movers will be here at 9:00 a.m. Maybe I can get my life back then.

The Mall gave me several suggestions on moving companies but they all quoted me minimum charges that were too high. Only Big T Moving said they’d come out to make an estimate.

When I answered the door there was this big, burly 6′ 6″ man with either a Caribbean or West African colonial accent. I shook his hand and said “I’m Chris.” He responded simply, “I’m Mr. T.” He won the contract on the spot.

I suspect that “The A Team” is probably still the number 1 show in Sierra Leone. Plus he was a hundred dollars cheaper than the others.

As seen from outer space
As seen from outer space

I have not completely ignored my domestic design chores through this nightmare. I did pick up some plants for the front door. And in the desert, plants means cactus. I think I will do well with them since they only need to be watered a handful of times throughout the year.

When I had the condo in Fort Wayne I tried very hard to create a lush back patio. But I’ve never had a green thumb. I’d no more get the plants in the ground than they’d start dying. I had the uncanny ability of turning annuals into weeklies.

My friend Billy was appalled by my lack of gardening skills. He threatened to revoke my Gay Man card or turn me over to the Allen County Horticultural Society for castration. He accused me of not transplanting them properly, some nonsense about air root rot.

But there’s only so much room in my brain to remember all this stuff. Not a lot of it is reserved for the nurturing of living things. I do hear, however, that the nurseries back there miss my business terribly.

Smart money says they won't see Arbor Day
Smart money says they won’t see Arbor Day

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The Last Temptation of Me

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