I will almost certainly come to regret this

I have a strong fondness for Queen Anne's Lace. It's mostly considered a weed, growing wild along roadsides and ditches. It's this roadside habit, however, that makes me love it so. It makes me think of hot summer days and driving to Door County to spend the day at the beach. It makes me think of blue skies and sweet-smelling fields and lazy days with nothing to do but soak up the sun.

I love all of those tough little roadside plants-- Queen Anne's Lace, hawkweed, chicory, daylillies, even bindweed--for being tenacious enough to grow where they can. I love them for being beautiful in a ragged and overlooked way.

So when I saw some Queen Anne's Lace growing in my neighbor's yard a few years ago, I snagged a dried flower head and threw the seeds into one of my flower beds. It's a kind of ordinary bed--full of ferns and daylilies and now QAL--things that are tough and strong and survive (or even thrive) without much attention. And I'm glad to have them there.

Some people

So I was at Bed, Bath & Beyond today buying this fabulous closet organizer. Seriously, it's fabulous; you should look into getting one. While I was waiting to pay, I got a real eyeful of the babe in line ahead of me. She was:

somewhere around 30 years old

blonde, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun

wearing stiletto-heeled mules

had a MAJOR pedicure

wearing tight tight black leggings

wearing a tight black sweater than went past her hips. (with the leggings, at first glance, I thought she was wearing a full bodysuit)

carrying a Michael Kors handbag

about six months pregnant

And she never stopped talking on her cell phone THE ENTIRE TIME, even while she was paying for her ugly wastebasket or whatever the hell it was.

After she left, both the salesclerk and I agreed that we cannot stand it when people keep talking on their phones while they are paying for something. Unless you are talking to a brain surgeon or the man in charge of the White House nuclear football, there is no phone call so important that you can't stop talking for five minutes to acknowledge the human being standing in front of you trying to do his/her job. It's called manners, people.

As I walked out of the store, I saw Miss Babe driving away in a white Cadillac CTS. I can't help but wonder, what kind of pregnant 30-year-old dresses like that and drives a Cadillac? Is she some CEO's trophy wife? A Packer girlfriend? Whoever she is, I bet she doesn't have a library card. Thank goodness.