June 27, 2008
On this gloriously sunny northwest day, I decided to pick wild flowers. Wild flowers (along with Super Wal-Marts, rampant road rage, and giant inflatable gorillas atop mattress warehouses) are new experiences for me on the rock called "the mainland". I pictured this... frolicking through sunny fields, gathering multi-colored emblems of beauty, and enjoying their presence and fragrance for weeks to come. Things I did not know: Ants the size of small dogs roam the fields in northwest suburbia, seeking innocent wild flower pickers. "Spittle bugs" manufacture wads of saliva that cling to the aforesaid wild flower's stems. All flowers don't smell like roses; daisies smell like poop. Don't worry, I still enjoy wild flowers, I just don't assume they are tame.