Son of Munch. Munch. Munch.

Last fall I whined about my troubled relationship with nasturtiums. But I did learn in the process. For example, I read some of the instructions! This spring, I read more of the instructions. Seems these splendid plants like to bloom in the coolth. Like sometime next fall once the sun has stopped frying everything in sight. My problem: I've already started several seedlings, which appear to be prospering. However, they have attracted a few gourmet insects. What I want to know is how to make sure these fellows survive until it's blossom time. I really don't like using poisons, BTW.

Notes: The second of the Coyote Radio blog interviews is up; this time, Sadira of Fooleswoode, talks about her approach and how blogging has affected her life. On a totally different subject, I was completely blown away by the new Vermont Country Store catalog that arrived today. You may know this outfit for selling pricey nostalgia products (Tangee lipstick ... Walnuttos candy... chenille bedspreads ... mumus). However, there on the same page with three industrial- strength bras is VCS' own comfort thong. This you gotta see!

Nostalgia by Mail

No, I'm not taking money to blog about someone's biz. Fact is, it's very cold up here in the mountains tonight. I want to curl up in a pile of warm fuzzies as fast as possible. Aha! How about a post about what Mom/ Greatgrandma is getting her smallest great granddaughter for Christmas. See, Mom got this catalog -- and there was a Raggedy Ann (and Andy) on the cover and she remembered my own Raggedy Ann from oh so long ago and decided the little one should also have a similar doll.

That's where this started. But if you've never browsed the Vermont Country Store, you've got a treat coming. On the one hand, expensive candies from Europe (including Mozart chocolates like I always found in my room at the Intercont in Vienna); on the other hand, night shirts, yet, and Restless Legs Cream. Snuggies, long johns (in silk, too), chenille bedspreads. Bay rum and badger shaving brushes for the gents. Evening in Paris perfume and imported English tea pots for the ladies.

If these don't push your nostalgia buttons, I've no idea just what will! Try visiting the Vermont Country Store web site for a real G.O.D. (Good Old Days) fix. Me, I'm about to curl up in the middle of a bunch of warm fuzzies!