PLANTS WHO USE TWITTER, AND THE BEST GIFT IN THE UNIVERSE!

Man-oh-man! I was just sitting in my nest here, with a couple of different things floatin' round in my head, when all of a sudden they collided and came together - like peanut butter and chocolate! I've just come up with the most brilliant Christmas/Valentine/Mother's Day/Birthday/Anniversary present ever - and I know just the two guys who could pull it off, too!

First of all, I was thinking about the email message I just got from my son. He's been playing around with some circuit board/electronics toy her ordered for himself, trying to make a Christmas present for me. He wants to see if he can figure out how to make a device that could monitor moisture and light levels in potted plants. He gave me the heads up in advance, just to make sure I was on board with the idea, before he went to all that trouble. I thought it might come in pretty handy once I got into starting veggie seedlings down in the utility room. Anyhoo, I got this message today that said "Hey, Mom, I think I've just figured out a way that your plants can talk to you via Twitter, to let you know when they need water and stuff!" Oh...yippee... Does that mean I have to learn how to tweet now?

The other thing I was ruminating on was that smoke alarm that started shrieking the other night, to remind us that it could use a new battery now and then. It got me to thinkin'... about all the other things in this house, and on this property, that could use some maintenance or attention. There's just so much to remember! Like, when does that UV filter in the water catchment system need to be changed out, or when does the septic system need to be dredged, or the driveway re-sealed, or the deck refinished, et-ceter-rah, et-ceter-rah. That's one thing I really admired about John's folks. Their home may have been modest, but it was always well-maintained. We didn't have to do a thing to it when it came time to sell, and no one had a clue that a little old lady in her 80's had been living there alone for years! So different from my folks, who's home was always well-furnished and beautifully decorated, but pretty much falling down around their ears.

Then wham! It came to me. My hubby and son are both techno-whizzies, and John spent most his career being the maintenance/reliability guru for Mobil Oil's gas plants full of huge turbines and compressors. Why couldn't they come up with a program that kept me on schedule for everything from tire rotations to garden mulching? Here's the clincher though: the program would need to be backed up by a small, self-perpetuating bank account which, with periodic contributions on each of the major gift-giving occasions, whould guarantee that funds for said maintenance would always be at hand. Forget jewels and furs! All I really want is a well-maintained home. A sustainable home. Is that too much to ask?

HA! That's when I snapped out of my reverie with a snort and a guffaw. Imagine my Johnny, trading in all of his excuses to go shopping and buy prezzies for his loved ones - the one thing he pretty much lives for - just to have a ship-shape home. Snort, snort, sniggle, sniggle. Like that would ever happen!