Playing in the dirt.

I may have bitten off more than I can chew with my many areas to weed, cultivate and plant this spring, now summer...took that little 10-day Mickey trip and am a bit behind.

I do love to sit in a patch of dirt, though, and contemplate life. I have had many serious conversations with myself while digging out a weed. Have compared a bump in life's road, a hiccup in a plan, to said weed many, many times. Some very intense speeches have been prepared, but never delivered, to my husband, while I am elbow deep in black dirt.  Oh, if he knew the things I have shared with the hosta and ferns. He isn't always the subject of these talks - sometimes it might be over an unpleasant customer service exchange, or something that has stuck in my craw, as the saying goes, that will cause a plant to suffer through a few choice words.  Gardening is to be therapeutic, right? And, it is therapeutic to release your frustrations, right? Not to harbor anger or grudges?

Funny side story here…I found myself in a therapist’s office a few years ago, talking about some kind of crappy stuff and I mentioned I just wanted to feel well enough to garden.  He said to me “I am convinced you shouldn’t be driving a car, much less garden!”

Today, I feel a little behind the 8-ball in trying to get the yard a bit more ready for the next few weeks of fabulous that make up our summers.  I may have gotten a bit “pie in the sky” thinking a lot of the landscaping would be taken care of by this time, post renovation.  But, it’s a lot to have all four sides of the house disrupted and a bit more tweaking to do and expect the flower beds to all be fixed up. I mean, I got gutters last week, so only now can start thinking foundation planting.  Landscaping is way down on the list…and the budget.

  

This afternoon, however, I did play in the dirt on one side of the shed.  I did some talking to some people, some imaginary friends and some “ghosts”, perhaps, of friends past.  I did a quick review of the budget for landscaping in my head and what I still hoped to accomplish this year.  Aside from the piles of dirt around the house, which I have accepted for 2017, the moon garden needs help, the shed perimeter.  The small bed across from our bedroom and the area just behind it. 

This year, I cemented my fondness for my favorite yard tool, which is that claw like thing that takes out weeds like a champ and lets me get pretty agressive.  I discovered some favorite mulch.  Well, it’s not mulch so much as shreds of bark and clippings, and it's from last year ~ probably not to be found ever more and why do I do this to myself?   And, my favorite plastic trowel, which is awesome in a bag of my favorite mulch, and it cost me 25 cents during an off season sale at K-mart…which is now closed and I really bought it for the grandkids.   

I have a lot on my mind and the flower bed is a great place to release those thoughts.  Protect society and garden, people. 

Wishing upon stars.

This has definitely been a couple of “wow” weeks.  So much living here at the lake!

But first, a moment.  The beautiful white columbine, which I was worried about, has succumbed  making it about 0 to 10 at bats for columbine.  I’m leaving it in the ground, and watering it just like it’s still got a chance, but, I am not hopeful.

 

So the big report, however, is our vacation to Disney World with all five grandchildren and their parents.  Our son and his wife weren’t able to make this one;  we missed them.  We did have the best grandparent time of our lives to date, however.  Outside of each of their births, I guess.

 

I haven’t posted many pictures as there are just too many to choose from, and could never decide.  Even the “bad” pictures have worth so, even though I have tried to delete some, I just can’t yet.  Maybe in a few weeks. Besides, I haven’t seen them all yet! Each picture I look at, believe me, is special in such a profound way.  You understand if you are my age, and can look in those sweet, trusting, believing, honest faces.  My goodness.

 

I know people who have never visited Disney, don’t like Disney, don’t ever intend on visiting Disney.  I get it.  It’s expensive, it is over the top in Disney-dom, it is not for them.  Their hearts and minds don’t “go” there.  But, for us, our hearts and minds do indeed go full on Disney albeit mild mannered.  I may never be able to totally express how I felt all of last week, even with some cranky times, some difference in parenting styles, some desires for one type of food or another left unanswered, the heat, the rain…whatever those small shortcomings it was still the best time.  Thank you to my middle child, the wonderful mother of 3, who tackled our trip planning with determination and provided us a delightful experience.  You could not have done a better job.  Except for the suitcase incident, of course.  To the youngest daughter, who saw Disney through the eyes of her kids for the first time…I know it was great for you,and a big stretch to your budget, but, yay! We did it!

Returning after the ten days of being gone, with much yard work, the deck to finish, the plants that haven’t even made it in to the ground yet, the interior painting, and when will the kitchen cabinets get hardware? ~ it seems like a dream.  Magic, just like ol’ Walt wanted it.  Thanks Disney, for the memories.  

Mornings such as this.

Checking the weather channel it seems that we’ve turned a corner and while certainly not warm, it will do, I hope, to get a few of these early growers into the ground.   The entire area around the house is (still) in construction mode as the deck gets started, the screen porch finished up and the foundation is screaming for some landscaping.  I have to be careful not to overflow into these areas to avoid plants trampled by well-meaning work boots in a couple of weeks.  I am excited for the deck to be sure but struggle to stay away from moving that dirt around by the house ~ I’ve got a four foot wide walkway coming soon to these very spots, and gutters and downspouts yet to be installed.

I did go on a bit of a greenhouse visit with my little shopping buddy, our niece, soon-to-be-neighbor, and tried to hold back on flowers to purchase, but did pick up a few.   We were disappointed at one spot and hit the jackpot in another.   We have another favorite place to visit if we can get there, and of course, there’s the grocery stores and discount centers to pick up a filler or a new pot.  I never have done much yellow, except daffodils, always sticking closer to reds and pinks against my tan house, but to make this area a bit different I purchased two big yellow pots for the new porch steps, my house now a deep greenish grey.  I am excited about filling these two with the red, purple and pink impatiens, with spikes and ivy…just wait, I tell myself, be patient with your impatiens.  I also picked up a beautiful all white columbine and a peachy white foxglove for the moon garden area.  I am excited about these two although I admit I have not been very successful with columbine in other areas.  This morning I am concentrating on the path to the moon garden, moving some stepping stones and digging out small maples, keeping on with the raking and wood chips from a couple days ago.  Esmerelda still looks good, even though she wintered out there on her stump instead of the shed like I planned.

 

Those maple trees.  They are something else.  In a conversation with an acquaintance over the weekend he mentioned getting some trees for his yard and was on his way to pick up a maple and a dogwood.  I literally shuddered, may have gasped,  even though I knew he was talking about a beautiful red maple shade tree…not these parasitic maples I have sprouting throughout the woods. I cleared most of the maples out of the area of the moon garden last year so this spring is an easier go, but, two feet outside of the clearing is probably 200 of those little devils.  While that does sound like a lot, having held 50 in my hands at one time I know it is a fair guess. 

This is a beautiful time in the wooded areas of our place.  The flowers that come out in the spring aren’t here long, but while they are, they are sure enjoyed.  This was a fast season for the many daffodils that dot our property, with all the rain and I mostly missed them ~ however, the redbuds and dogwoods have been pretty spectacular.  I was out early this morning, just around sunrise, thinking about what project I might tackle there today.  I need to turn some attention to inside the house as well but oh, how it calls me.  

Out with the old, and in with the old.

There are times when I feel like I am totally modern, totally contemporary and “with it”.  I may be kidding myself, but, I do try to keep up a bit, you know? I don’t want to be one of those ladies stuck in the late 90s, with my personal style or even the style in my home.  I don’t need to be trendy, but, I don’t mind a bit of “Oh, that’s a nice, on-trend choice” every once in a while.

Decorating the house as the interior part of the renovation comes to a close has been a real dilemma at times.  I’d like to have all new furnishings, but, that would be crazy.  I have good furnishings now.  I’d like to have all new plates and bowls and glasses.  But, what do I do with all these plates, bowls and glasses I have now?

Never was this more apparent than when I took down the plate rail and emptied the china cabinet before painting the foyer.  All the cut glass items that my mom and aunt and mother-in-law had lovingly passed on to me.  Some with great family history, some with a garage sale price tag still visible on the bottom as it was just something they saw and “picked up, thought you would like it”.  When I was much younger I was in to pitchers, and I have some great ones…but, I also have a few not so great, and some very user unfriendly creamers and sugars.  Really?

Trying to decide what to do with some of these items has been heart-wrenching and a great release, too.  I have a box of things already priced for an upcoming garage sale and a box of things that will go back in to a display of sorts and another box that will, well, go up in the attic I guess.

The china cabinet is gone now and the old, golden oak plate rail was laying in the middle of the floor.  We stood in the foyer and reminisced about picking up the plate rail, a gift from hubs to me on an early anniversary…before kids even.  It was a special order from an Amish cabinet maker and my first trip to Amish country, and it was cold and rainy.  When my husband was loading it into the car and told me to hang on to one end he successfully dropped it on my head.  It became an often referred to inside joke…about him trying to kill me to collect my insurance, of which I had none, and escape to an island or something.  He has accidentally hit me in my head many times over the years…with a ladder, or a limb, or a board.  I am often the only one around to help on a project and I’m so much shorter than he is, which I think he doesn’t consider, and ker-plunk, followed by “Oh, I’m sorry, honey”, leaving me to murmur “uh huh” for the hundredth time. 

So we stood there and looked at all the little, old-fashioned spindles, recently carried around and called “people” by our two-year-old granddaughter, and thought about our early days.  I said “What the heck. I know its old-fashioned, but I like that plate rail” and back up on the wall it went, me holding it, waiting for it, or the level, to fall on my head while husband screwed it back into place.  I have a new fridge, dishwasher and oven.  I have a fancy big screen TV and am “on trend” in the choice of my cool grey walls.  I can manage a bit of old-fashioned.

  

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. 

 

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. 

 

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…