The Darwin Exception

because it's not always survival of the fittest – sometimes the idiots get through

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The Mug Growing Revisited

Posted by thedarwinexception on June 16, 2007

So I finally took a picture of the mug growing that is happening next door. I am keeping a close eye on the situation, because if one day out of the blue there is suddenly two mugs there – or even a hint of a blossom of a new mug, I will be planting mugs in my front yard, as well.

But here is the mug as it appears today.

Notice the bare patch of dirt around the mug? That is the area that the formerly dead lady next door cleared out with her bare hands and the ice scraper. This, I suppose, is what she calls “landscaping”. Effective? You decide.

Several people have mentioned in comments that they think this is some kind of home remedy to reducing snails. Now, I’ve never seen a snail in our yard. Possible, I suppose, but I’ve never seen one. I’ve seen muskrats, I’ve seen skunks, and I certainly see plenty of squirrels, but I’ve never seen snails. I asked the old lady next door if she had ever had a problem with snails. She’s lived here over 40 years, so I thought she would know. Besides that fact that she is a gardening type of person. She said she had never seen a snail. I then asked her if she had buried a mug to ward off the snails, and she said no.

And if this woman was even halfway like a normal person, I might think that “fending off snails” might be a concern for her and a reason to plant a mug. But we just aren’t dealing with any sort of normality here. I mean, I’ve never even seen this bitch come outside of the house except for the few times I’ve seen her raking or shoveling with highly inappropriate implements, or sitting on the back porch wrapped up in a sleeping bag reading a book during a snowstorm. This lady has never even put garbage in front of her house to be hauled away. Not that I’ve ever seen her bring groceries in, either. I can’t imagine that fighting snails is something she would go to all the trouble to plant a mug for. Unless, of course, all the snails are in her house feasting on her vines/curtain rods. But you’d think if that was the case she’d be hauling dirt into her house to plant the mug in the middle of her living room.

I think it’s a sign. Of what, I do not know. But I think it’s a sign. It’s a message of some sort. You have to wonder what the hell she does in there all day with no electricity, no television, no groceries and no furniture. She’s either a member of the undead or she’s an alien. And that mug is a message to one group or another. Either her fellow undead or her fucking mother planet. I mean, she couldn’t have picked a better place to hide out if she’s a member of either group. Think about it – a town full of disabled people who drink a lot, and therefore aren’t likely to be lucid or believable if they see her or her zombie or alien friends. A house on a dead end road for low visibility. And the first thing she does is hang curtains with dead vines to shield her zombie or alien self inside the house. She apparently doesn’t need food – at least not food most people eat. And you know, I haven’t seen that muskrat around for a while. She probably caught his ass and ate him raw. She doesn’t get mail. She doesn’t need heat or lights. Even in the middle of an Adirondack winter. How many human alive people can make that claim? She can’t be human – at least she can’t be an alive human. What kind of alive human lives without a TV? That’s just not fucking normal, I don’t care what you say. I’ll bet she’s never even heard of Paris Hilton. So she has to be a fucking alien.

Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I mean, from what I can tell shy aliens or zombies make the best neighbors. They don’t make a lot of noise, they don’t steal your newspaper, and they never borrow sugar. What more could you want in a neighbor?

When I was taking a picture of the mug, I also stopped by the side of our house to take a picture of the flowers growing there. Mostly because they are the only flowers that have ever been within 50 feet of where I’ve lived and have not died, and partly so that if the formerly dead lady next door came out and saw me taking a picture of her mug I could use the excuse that I was *really* taking a picture of the flowers next to my house. I mean, let’s face it, the woman is a fucking lunatic. She may not appreciate me taking pictures of her mug.

So here are the flowers growing on the side of my house. I have no idea what kind of flowers they are. But I think they are pretty. And I am surprised that my mere proximity to them hasn’t killed them yet.

In other, inside the house, news. I finished the little top to the two piece Capri pant set I am making. Here is the top:


I think it is coming along quite nicely. My friend absolutely coordinated the prints just right. I wish I was good at that kind of thing.

And I am starting to paint the downstairs living room. Finally. I got tired of waiting for Paul to rip the room apart and put up new drywall, so I just took the paint and started painting it. He was pissed off about it for about 5 minutes, telling me “Well, that’s just a waste of paint! I’m just going to have to rip all those walls out anyway when I get the insulation and the drywall and start re-doing this room.” I told him that by the time he “got around to” doing that I would be an old, old, woman – or dead, so I was really not *that* concerned about wasting a $10 fucking can of paint. The paint is over a year old as it is, waiting for that room to be demolished and have new drywall hung. So let’s be realistic here, is it *really* wasting the paint?

My plan is to get the living room in some kind of order so I can take the plastic off my antique Victorian living room set, and set up that room. I would really like to find some old bookshelves (besides the one antique bookshelf I already have), and put all my books in there, getting them out of the sewing room. And I’d like to get all my old antique tables and end tables and stuff in there – and set out some of the hurricane lamps, and the old spinning wheel and all that other old antique junk I have. Then I can start looking for a replacement piano. I had to leave my piano in Florida when we moved up here, and I’ve been really anxious to find a new one. Of course, Paul thinks that you can’t put a piano in that room – because it will fall through the floor. But this is the same guy who thinks I can’t put my bookshelves against an inside wall upstairs, either, lest they fall through the floor. He’s really fucking weird about things like that. But I want a piano for that room – preferably an old one. If it falls through the floor – oh well. He had to demolish that room, anyway, right? Having a piano fall through the floor will just put “demolish the living room” back on top of the priority list. Or if not at the top of the list at least somewhere above “Sit on my ass doing nothing”.

So, that’s all the crap for today. If you know what kind of flowers are growing on the side of my house, let me know. And if you want to weigh in on the “alien or zombie” question, let me know that, too.


9 Responses to “The Mug Growing Revisited”

  1. joolz said

    The flowers are poppies.
    I’ve heard them called both Icelandic Poppies and California Poppies.
    Take yer pick.

  2. Poppies??? Like what you make heroin out of?? Oh good god, maybe my brother planted them.


  3. njgill said

    I found this:
    “The ultimate Cat mess deterrent:
    Bury a mug size beaker in the ground where you are having soiling problems, so that the lip is about 2″from the surface. threequarters fill it with Jeyes Fluid. Cover it with a saucer shaped plastic lid that is about 4″larger ,that you have made holes in all round the edge.Not the middle you want to let the smell escape but not let water in.The cover must not rest on the beaker,it should rest on the earth 1″ above. Then cover with soil marking the spot so you can remember where you left it.You will still get some soiling for a day or two but it will soon cease.If you still get problems in another part of your lottie or garden,bury one there. Very soon you will cease to have a problem.”

    and at:
    I found this:
    “1. What to do if a Bismillah mug breaks?
    Please make sure you bury a mug with the words bismillah written on it if it is broken.”

    This guy broke up with his boyfriend and performed ritual burial of a mug:

    Or maybe she got one of these and misinterpreted the name as a command:

    If you can sell your house by burying a statue:
    maybe burying a mug will get you a free pass to Starbucks?

  4. 1. What to do if a Bismillah mug breaks?

    Is this the same “Bismillah” like in that “Bohemian Rhapsody” song? The part that goes “Bismillah No! We will not let him go – let me go, Bismillah No we will not let you go – let him go, let him go, never let him go oh no no no no no…”

    Or is it something else entirely?

    If you can sell your house by burying a statue:

    From Cecil’s site at link provided, here is the prayer you are supposed to say when you bury your St. Joseph (upside down).

    “Oh, St. Joseph, guardian of household needs, we know you don’t like to be upside down in the ground, but the sooner escrow closes, the sooner we will dig you up and put you in a place of honor in our new home. Please bring us an acceptable offer (or any offer!) and help sustain our faith in the real estate market.”

    I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that prayer in the bible, but it would be cool if it was in there somewhere.

    maybe burying a mug will get you a free pass to Starbucks?

    You may be onto something here. Maybe she is burying a mug as some sort of voodoo to bring a Starbucks to Malone. And maybe I should be burying a book to bring a bookstore to town. I think I have a copy of The Davinci Code around here somewhere, and Lord knows that book should be fucking buried.

    I may have to do that. I’m sure I can tailor the St. Jospeh prayer to meet my needs.

    “Oh, St. Amazon, guardian of books and book lovers, we know you appreciate Dan Brown being in the garden upside down, so I offer “The Davinci Code” and “Angels & Demons” as an offering. As soon as we get a bookstore, I will buy 10 more copies and bury them as well. Please bring us a Barnes & Noble (or any bookstore!) and help sustain our faith in the literacy of adults everywhere.”


  5. Hank said

    Just in case she’s trying to grow mugs, you should wait until she’s gone or asleep and plant a smaller one next to it.

  6. njgill said

    your flowers do look like these:

    but not so much like this:

    without that blob thing in the middle, you’ve got a low-morphine varietal:
    “Papaver somniferum is a species of plant with many sub-groups or varieties. Some of the varieties (such as the Norman and Przemko varieties) have “low morphine” content meaning they have insufficient opium compounds to produce a “high” or to be useful to the drug trade. These “low morphine” varieties are sometimes called “breadseed poppies” or “florist poppies”. The DEA considers it legal for gardeners to cultivate these “low morphine” varieties.

  7. Joey said

    I’m so glad you posted a picture of the planted mug.

    This is hilarious.

    I like hanks idea, you should be able to get one of those mini-mugs with a hockey team logo on it from the grocery store vending machines. . . .

  8. The flowers are Icelandic poppies, I think. They’re definitely not California poppies, which are usually bright orange and don’t have the dark blotch at the bottom of the petal.

    European and eastern US poppies are various species of Papaver but California poppies (which also grow in Oregon and Arizona) are Eschscholzia californica. There’s a bit of interesting gossip about that name.

    Otto von Kotzebue, a German, led a scientific expedition to California and up the coast to Alaska, as well as other parts of the Pacific, in the early 1800’s. There were two botanists on the expedition, Adelbert von Chamisso and Johann Friedrich von Eschscholtz. Von Chamisso named the poppy after Eschscholtz. Adelbert and Johann were more than just members of the same expedition, they were boyfriends.

    I am frequently tempted to goad my local, and extremely conservative, State Senator and Assemblywoman (husband and wife and defenders of marriage, etc) into introducing a bill to change the name of the official State flower to something purer, so that our children won’t be contaminated by even remote contact with anything done by homosexuals.

    Actually, it would have been more fun to drop this on the late Pete Knight, the former X-15 pilot and State Senator who was a major force behind the Defense Of Marriage Act here. His son, who was alienated from his father, is in a long-term same-sex relationship back East somewhere. But we knew Pete and, except for his politics and anti-gay attitude, liked him very much. He was a real gentleman, very intelligent, and a good pilot, so I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  9. Lisa Ann said

    I second the idea of planting little tiny mugs next to the big mug. Or little saucers. Or teaspoons. Or, heck, an entire coffee service.

    While you’re burying Dan Brown’s books in the yard, I’d like to suggest you toss in a few Danielle Steel books as well.

    Lisa Ann

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