Thursday, April 20, 2017

Get out there.

You may remember that a while ago my niece and nephew gave us a bench they no longer needed at their home, and it went great on the porch of my little shed.  I have spent a fair amount of time on that little bench.  It gives a great view of the yard and lakeshore and a nice rest when I am working on the plantings around the shed.
 
I cannot say enough wonderful things about the shed, or the bench, honestly.  They are both about as perfect as they come…with the exception of electricity, which is on the plan, just not done yet.  The bench has become my resting place after strolling the yard with little dog each morning.  Not going to lie, a habit that was broken over the winter and it has taken me a little while to get back to it, but, walking the yard with the little dog is a great joy.

However, getting up and getting dressed is HARD.  Putting on shoes, or boots, and deciding on a jacket or not, finding my favorite Tervis, finding my phone in case there happens to be a good picture along the way, heating the coffee that hubs left or making a new pot so I can have it with me…I know. I sound like a big ol’ slob, but, guys, I’m getting old and way too sedentary for a healthy retirement. I am working on it, really.  
 
There is always a reward when I get it together, however, and get out there.  I am always so pleased over some small thing.  A bird I heard, the swans on the lake always thrill me, a flower or plant that I didn’t think would make it, in bloom.  My favorite is days like today after a rain in overnight or very early.  Things are slightly wet, green and refreshed. Just the sky, the sounds, the water, the smells…all of it, a reward.
 
Today, bright pink blooms on an azalea did it.  Bright pink, forever pink…and a hosta I was nervous about is poked up through the ground.  Now, some of you may say a hosta is about the easiest thing to grow there is, and it’s true, but the soil in the moon garden is some serious junk.  This white leafed hosta was slow to start but it is up, it is unfurling and I think will be okay.

The opportunity to sit on the bench, or to walk along my trail to nowhere, or stop a moment to listen.  Life’s rewards. 
 


Thursday, April 13, 2017

When I count my blessings...

Trust me, I understand I am not the only one who has ever been almost all consumed by a renovation project.  In fact, this is our second “big” renovation of this house, but this one seems so much different, and longer than the other.

With the end in sight, and it really is, I am amazed at how my reaction has changed over the last few months.  At first, when the inside of the house was upside down and I couldn’t do much but come in to the office and work or read, I thought I might go “stir crazy”.  Of course, a lot of that was over the cold and dreary months of winter, too, so that didn’t help in trying to deal with the massive amount of clutter that was at my every step.
 
The only parts of this house that have not been touched in some way are the laundry room and the two bathrooms…every other room has either been either “remodeled” in some way or has been converted, temporarily it says here, into some other type of room…my respite, the guest bedroom/office, has become storage for all things to be kept “safe”.  My wedding china in a plastic tote, knick-knacks, new décor in bags, 3 glass lamp shades on the bed...  It has always been the storage for Christmas, housed in a nice closet, which came and went during this project and I can't get to the closet. It is also where I sort and fold laundry, since that area is just outside the door.  And, it’s my office…my escape space, which has become smaller and smaller as more and more has come in here to be kept out of harm’s and hammer’s way.  It is no longer the office/bedroom with maybe a bit of laundry to fold.  It's a battleground. 

Four months ago, I thought I would snap.  Stepping over this, trying not to knock over that …where did it go? Where did I put it? Where did he put it? Did I throw it out? I am sure I saw it. I stopped cooking, I stopped cleaning, I stopped organizing anything, I stopped shopping ~ which, you know, since I wasn’t cooking was not a huge deal ~ I wore the same clothes over and over as it was easier than finding something else to wear.  I just washed it and put it back on.  Didn't matter anyway as I rarely left this construction site I call home.
 
I lost touch with people, I know.  This became bigger than friendships, bigger than fun, bigger than…GASP…extended family.   Big.  I dreaded hearing someone say “I want to stop by and see what you are doing”.  Oh no, please don’t.  My house was a literal wreck, still is.  I knew coming in it would be months and months…but it’s really hard to realize what that means until you are in the middle and you see no end, and you don’t remember the start.  You don’t remember what the house looked like, or where things were.  People see the changes and say “Hey, wasn’t your such and such right there?” “Um, yeah, I think that’s where it was…sure, yeah, that’s right”

This all came to a blinding flash the other night as an old friend stopped in…hadn’t seen him in years, and he had not seen the house in a long time, has traveled many roads since the last time he was here and well, he didn’t remember a lot about it.  But, what really struck me, as hubs and I sat talking with him as he squeezed into a corner to a temporarily placed chair, removing the pillows and throws that had been placed there, noticing, but not quite registering he had his hands full of my comfort items, wondering where he should put them...and we sat opposite on the couch, plates in hand, shoveling our quickly prepared, late evening spaghetti into our faces (the first meal I have cooked in a very, very long time),  was how very few casual conversations we have had over the last few months.  So much of it revolves around this project for us, only with him, it was different…we wanted to know what HE had been doing, who he had seen, where he has been.  No  “Well, yes, the kitchen did have this or that and now it will have such and such.”  We were hungry for what he had to share.  Did we just turn a corner? 

Much later, although we tried to bombard him with spaghetti when he first walked in, we realized we failed to offer him even a sip of water during his visit.  Have we forgotten how to be welcoming? Hospitable?  I was aware of  him glancing over to our dining room table, shoved in to the living room space and piled high with items off the walls and tools, screws, nails, paint brushes, did he just wince?  I have become almost oblivious to the mess by this point.  I don't see it.  I step over it, I walk around it.  I shrug.  I see the white blob on the new wood floor that is either drywall mud or ceiling paint and think "We'll get that later".  Will we? 
   
But, there is that light at the end of the tunnel.  It is happening…not quite to the “punch list” phase, but, it is finishing up; the butcher block counter for the island is here and waits to be attached to the cabinets, my new stools await it, so they can be slid underneath the overhang and we will enjoy a meal there.  The fridge is a thing of beauty, the dishwasher is glorious.  The other counter tops and the sink will be installed in about a week and the walls are almost all freshly painted their new Proper Grey.  I've emptied and sold the antique china cabinet we have had since we moved in to our home in 1978.  The new,  smaller cabinet will be here in about a week, along with the new media cabinet to go under the new television. We even had a moment of “ahhhh” as we sat among tools and sawdust on the new, but not quite finished, screen porch a week or so ago and enjoyed a quiet moment with a neighbor.  There is less of a feeling of panic and fear and more of excitement, blessing and gratitude. 
 


Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Changes, changes

We have been in the throes of renovation for about 8 months now.  I am sure you are tired of hearing about it, as am I.  I am not talking about renovation this week, as I wait for the water softener guy to come, or the crew that will be measuring for the countertops.  I am going to move outside for a while.

The moon garden space was cleared over the weekend and it is not looking great at this point.  It looks as though the soil needs a bit of beefing up and I worry that some of the perennials that were planted last year did not winter over very well in their new home.  That being said, it’s early and I could be wrong and everything will be just fine once the sunshine starts.

Now, when is that going to happen? The skies have dumped rain on us almost every minute of every day for a couple of weeks.  To say it’s soggy around here would be an understatement.  When it’s not raining, it’s pretty darn cold.  I almost felt it was too early to expose the ground in the moon garden area because of the temperature, but, there were just so many leaves, wet, wet, heavy leaves, on top to leave it alone.  I unearthed a wind chime in the woods, too, that I had forgotten about and laid in a tangled heap in the leaves, so that was fun.
 
One of the projects during Camp GiGi Spring 2017 was rock caterpillars.  I was a little disappointed in their outcome as, although cute, they aren’t holding together super well. I will be fixing them before taking them to their homes this weekend (I think because they painted their rocks, the silicon isn't grabbing).  Mine is holding like a champ and is the cutest.  It is going in the moon garden area later this week, if it ever stops raining!

I am again preparing a list of plants for purchase this season, and have already checked the opening days for some of my favorite local nurseries, as well as have a “wish list” on a garden website or two.  I have a pair, okay maybe two, of great new sturdy gloves and a new garden scissors.  There is some sad news.  After celebrating last year that Harry was going to survive being transplanted, he is not looking too well.  I did take some dramatic steps over the weekend and cut his twisted and curly branches all the way back, to see if I could revive him.  I will keep you posted of his progress, but, don’t be surprised if he doesn’t pull through.  The Mildreds are looking great however, and a new transplanted azalea, the Jean Marie, is in a new home.  I will take pictures of these lovely gals as they bloom out this spring.
 

Life in our yard is becoming a bit hectic as the season begins to open up to all its possibilities.  It will be active around here for the next several months, first with our own projects, a new home beginning next door, some possible renovations just within view of us, and a bit of an outbuilding across the street.  Our neighborhood has changed, is changing and will be changing some more over the next few months, and years.  In some ways I feel like my little moon garden, my walking path and my shed are the constants for now.  All will be turmoil, for a while, except these places of rest…