A Stack of Pots

Last Sunday, we had lunch at the famous White Fence Farm in Lakewood, Colorado. It is a really fantastic place, a former farm that is now a country store, home-style restaurant, garden, and petting zoo right in the city. One of the things they had there was a stack of flower pots that looked balanced. It drew the attention of the lovely spouse, who wanted that at our house. She has also been wanting something on the left side of the garage for balance with the flowers near the porch.

So tonight after work, we went to what Hank Hill on TV's King of the Hill would call the MegaLo Mart, but which we know as Wal-Mart. There we bought flowers, potting soil, four clay pots, and a yard torch. Why a yard torch? Well, the pot stack at White Fence Farm had a piece of steel rebar for the support up through the pots. Since I couldn't find any rebar, the torch had a metal pipe for its support. I took the torch off the top, drove the pipe into the ground, and presto, a pipe perfect for stacking flower pots!

Then the LS put the soil and flowers into the pots, watered them, and now we have this nice array of pots and flowers beside the garage. Simple, but it gives the illusion of a weird balancing act going on.

Old Man Candy, Indeed!

Today at work, I offered some Junior Mints to my young friend, Kristin. Now, as Cosmo Kramer would say, "Who wouldn't love a Junior Mint? They're chocolaty, they're minty, they're refreshing!" And although she indeed wanted some, she made some comment about them being "old man candy". What!! The famed Junior Mint, the perfect movie theater candy, being maligned? (Or maybe it was ME being maligned...whatever).

So we had a laugh about Junior Mints and Senior Mints, and other such nonsense. It did get me thinking about something though. What do I consider to be "old man candy"? Well my grandparents are long gone, but one memory I have of my paternal grandfather was that he always had a bag of horehound drops. He would offer us one, usually with, "Do you kids want a horehound drop?". We may have accepted the offer once, but no more.

The horehound drop is the brown, nasty member of the drop family. Lemon drops are great. Butterscotch drops, fine. But horehound drops...oh my gosh, were they ever awful!

Then there's the name . . . horehound. Of course, it always made us laugh once we were old enough to associate it with "whore hound". What is that? Some kind of dog that excels at sniffing out prostitutes?

So, I am making it my mission to get some horehound drops and bring them to the office, and introduce my young coworkers who have never heard of them, to the experience that is the horehound drop. I already warned Kristin they will be coming. I know they sell them at Cracker Barrel, so no problem there. I also told her there will be "no spitsie-outies" allowed!