Lately I have been reminded, many times over, and in terms that leave no doubt, that I truly am a bitch. I thank all those who contributed to my bitch status – one aims to delight. Of all the stories that I can recount, there was one rather sweet instance a few days ago of a person’s tirade just how she (yes, it is usually a She) does not appreciate complainers and people who whine. At this point, she then start to grumble and whine. Charming. But before you point the finger at anyone else, just remember that there are more than just one of me out there. As a matter of fact, her winging and whining was so adorable that I ‘d like to take these types of individuals by the hand and direct them into a dark alleyway. As for nincompoop male bloggers out there, you just usually have bad manners. Smart discussion is not helped by those who block out everything they do not want to listen to. That’s where a gardener falls short – he might consider, to his regret, a weed to be undesirable – Stinging Nettles sting – but he usually has more than one way at his disposal to handle them. He could wear gloves, uproot the nettles and use them for a herbal tea OR he can weep and whine all day long about the sores on his arms and legs. So if you need a hanky or something to clean away those tears of contempt, then look no further. You might be able to sever any connection to me, but that does not mean that I will cease to exist, and I will always be ready to engage even with the nincompoops and the most delicate of Denises out there.