2005-04-09
Grhahhrrgh.
I've been picking up winter deadfalls all morning so H could mow. After I'd done 3/4 of the side yard he gets back from a landfill run. They've upped their fee per truckload from $3.00 to $10.00, and that includes offloading flattened dry cardboard into the recycling trailer. We probably have at least 4-5 more loads of just since fall accumulata that didn't go out in weekly trash collection. There's a bulky object collection, but not till August, and they're picky about what you can put out, so the landfill is the best answer, really. But I'd think they'd charge less, since we're not asking them to pick up and haul it. And this does not address the toxic materials collection day--One! per year! Where d'we keep the paint and thinners and old motor oil till then, eh?
The bathroom window overlooks the third to two-fifths acre that had always been vegetable garden till my dad got too infirm to tend it. We never graded and rolled it, but we did disc it and let it go to grass and kept it mowed for years, until I asked H to let it be a couple of years ago. With all the new housing and business construction in the area, I thought birds and possums, rabbits and various bugs, snakes and frogs might appreciate a little undisturbed ground. Plus, it makes the neighbors antsy that it's not mowed and neat and tidy, but hey, it's behind our house and hidden from the street, and it doesn't abut their yards, so scroom. I'd noticed from the bathroom window that there was a drift of bluish flowers right in the center of the open space, which has sprouted tall weedy tufts and random saplings among the tall grass and vetch. So I went out to investigate, and as I'd not quite dare hope, the flowers are violets. A mass of white with deep purple centers, here and there broken by a clump of solid purple, wild violets. I just stood and watched the bumblebees working over the flowers, and enjoyed the sight.
When I was a wee girl, I would sometimes find violets in shady undisturbed pockets, scattered in the grass under the shadow of the hedge, or along the ditch. But I haven't seen them much, lately. And I love them so. I thought about cutting a handful for my altar, but these are wild flowers, and they fade quickly when they're cut. Besides, seeing them en masse like that, open to the sun, was enough.
When H got back from the landfill he went and got the wheelbarrow and the rake for me to collect fallen limbs and twigs. Okay, wheelbarrow I can see, but really? The rake just gives me blisters. The bend and pick I was doing deliberately, in lieu of toe-touches, and the walking to and from the curbside pile was all part of the aerobic thing. Which really kicked my ass. I mean, beautiful day, bare knees, cool breeze, it should have been a pleasure, but I am woefully out of shape, and after the first half-hour my head was ready to explode from all the bending. It was also compounded by the fact that the two cherry, two apple, two weeping cherry, seven willow oak, two pecan, five maple, two smallish true oak, three plum, one gigantic dogwood and several unidentified "trash trees" in our yard are all in bloom right now. I had to come inside twice to blow my nose and wash my face, sit down and let my head stop pounding. But pickup sticks is all done now, and H is out making Big Noise with the mower.
We have Ray from Netflix, and maybe H will be in the mood to finish watching Sideways. He got up and went to bed in the middle of the getting-drunk-calling-the-ex-wife restaurant scene the other night, so he never got to the porch scene with Maya. I think if he gets that far, everything will fall into place and he'll grok the movie. But right now he's annoyed with it, so he may not be willing to give it another chance. Sad, really. I love that movie.
Okay, there's a shower calling my name. Four-hour drive tomorrow, but I have a new book to read, and I'm not driving!
The bathroom window overlooks the third to two-fifths acre that had always been vegetable garden till my dad got too infirm to tend it. We never graded and rolled it, but we did disc it and let it go to grass and kept it mowed for years, until I asked H to let it be a couple of years ago. With all the new housing and business construction in the area, I thought birds and possums, rabbits and various bugs, snakes and frogs might appreciate a little undisturbed ground. Plus, it makes the neighbors antsy that it's not mowed and neat and tidy, but hey, it's behind our house and hidden from the street, and it doesn't abut their yards, so scroom. I'd noticed from the bathroom window that there was a drift of bluish flowers right in the center of the open space, which has sprouted tall weedy tufts and random saplings among the tall grass and vetch. So I went out to investigate, and as I'd not quite dare hope, the flowers are violets. A mass of white with deep purple centers, here and there broken by a clump of solid purple, wild violets. I just stood and watched the bumblebees working over the flowers, and enjoyed the sight.
When I was a wee girl, I would sometimes find violets in shady undisturbed pockets, scattered in the grass under the shadow of the hedge, or along the ditch. But I haven't seen them much, lately. And I love them so. I thought about cutting a handful for my altar, but these are wild flowers, and they fade quickly when they're cut. Besides, seeing them en masse like that, open to the sun, was enough.
When H got back from the landfill he went and got the wheelbarrow and the rake for me to collect fallen limbs and twigs. Okay, wheelbarrow I can see, but really? The rake just gives me blisters. The bend and pick I was doing deliberately, in lieu of toe-touches, and the walking to and from the curbside pile was all part of the aerobic thing. Which really kicked my ass. I mean, beautiful day, bare knees, cool breeze, it should have been a pleasure, but I am woefully out of shape, and after the first half-hour my head was ready to explode from all the bending. It was also compounded by the fact that the two cherry, two apple, two weeping cherry, seven willow oak, two pecan, five maple, two smallish true oak, three plum, one gigantic dogwood and several unidentified "trash trees" in our yard are all in bloom right now. I had to come inside twice to blow my nose and wash my face, sit down and let my head stop pounding. But pickup sticks is all done now, and H is out making Big Noise with the mower.
We have Ray from Netflix, and maybe H will be in the mood to finish watching Sideways. He got up and went to bed in the middle of the getting-drunk-calling-the-ex-wife restaurant scene the other night, so he never got to the porch scene with Maya. I think if he gets that far, everything will fall into place and he'll grok the movie. But right now he's annoyed with it, so he may not be willing to give it another chance. Sad, really. I love that movie.
Okay, there's a shower calling my name. Four-hour drive tomorrow, but I have a new book to read, and I'm not driving!
Grhahhrrgh.
I've been picking up winter deadfalls all morning so H could mow. After I'd done 3/4 of the side yard he gets back from a landfill run. They've upped their fee per truckload from $3.00 to $10.00, and that includes offloading flattened dry cardboard into the recycling trailer. We probably have at least 4-5 more loads of just since fall accumulata that didn't go out in weekly trash collection. There's a bulky object collection, but not till August, and they're picky about what you can put out, so the landfill is the best answer, really. But I'd think they'd charge less, since we're not asking them to pick up and haul it. And this does not address the toxic materials collection day--One! per year! Where d'we keep the paint and thinners and old motor oil till then, eh?
The bathroom window overlooks the third to two-fifths acre that had always been vegetable garden till my dad got too infirm to tend it. We never graded and rolled it, but we did disc it and let it go to grass and kept it mowed for years, until I asked H to let it be a couple of years ago. With all the new housing and business construction in the area, I thought birds and possums, rabbits and various bugs, snakes and frogs might appreciate a little undisturbed ground. Plus, it makes the neighbors antsy that it's not mowed and neat and tidy, but hey, it's behind our house and hidden from the street, and it doesn't abut their yards, so scroom. I'd noticed from the bathroom window that there was a drift of bluish flowers right in the center of the open space, which has sprouted tall weedy tufts and random saplings among the tall grass and vetch. So I went out to investigate, and as I'd not quite dare hope, the flowers are violets. A mass of white with deep purple centers, here and there broken by a clump of solid purple, wild violets. I just stood and watched the bumblebees working over the flowers, and enjoyed the sight.
When I was a wee girl, I would sometimes find violets in shady undisturbed pockets, scattered in the grass under the shadow of the hedge, or along the ditch. But I haven't seen them much, lately. And I love them so. I thought about cutting a handful for my altar, but these are wild flowers, and they fade quickly when they're cut. Besides, seeing them en masse like that, open to the sun, was enough.
When H got back from the landfill he went and got the wheelbarrow and the rake for me to collect fallen limbs and twigs. Okay, wheelbarrow I can see, but really? The rake just gives me blisters. The bend and pick I was doing deliberately, in lieu of toe-touches, and the walking to and from the curbside pile was all part of the aerobic thing. Which really kicked my ass. I mean, beautiful day, bare knees, cool breeze, it should have been a pleasure, but I am woefully out of shape, and after the first half-hour my head was ready to explode from all the bending. It was also compounded by the fact that the two cherry, two apple, two weeping cherry, seven willow oak, two pecan, five maple, two smallish true oak, three plum, one gigantic dogwood and several unidentified "trash trees" in our yard are all in bloom right now. I had to come inside twice to blow my nose and wash my face, sit down and let my head stop pounding. But pickup sticks is all done now, and H is out making Big Noise with the mower.
We have Ray from Netflix, and maybe H will be in the mood to finish watching Sideways. He got up and went to bed in the middle of the getting-drunk-calling-the-ex-wife restaurant scene the other night, so he never got to the porch scene with Maya. I think if he gets that far, everything will fall into place and he'll grok the movie. But right now he's annoyed with it, so he may not be willing to give it another chance. Sad, really. I love that movie.
Okay, there's a shower calling my name. Four-hour drive tomorrow, but I have a new book to read, and I'm not driving!
The bathroom window overlooks the third to two-fifths acre that had always been vegetable garden till my dad got too infirm to tend it. We never graded and rolled it, but we did disc it and let it go to grass and kept it mowed for years, until I asked H to let it be a couple of years ago. With all the new housing and business construction in the area, I thought birds and possums, rabbits and various bugs, snakes and frogs might appreciate a little undisturbed ground. Plus, it makes the neighbors antsy that it's not mowed and neat and tidy, but hey, it's behind our house and hidden from the street, and it doesn't abut their yards, so scroom. I'd noticed from the bathroom window that there was a drift of bluish flowers right in the center of the open space, which has sprouted tall weedy tufts and random saplings among the tall grass and vetch. So I went out to investigate, and as I'd not quite dare hope, the flowers are violets. A mass of white with deep purple centers, here and there broken by a clump of solid purple, wild violets. I just stood and watched the bumblebees working over the flowers, and enjoyed the sight.
When I was a wee girl, I would sometimes find violets in shady undisturbed pockets, scattered in the grass under the shadow of the hedge, or along the ditch. But I haven't seen them much, lately. And I love them so. I thought about cutting a handful for my altar, but these are wild flowers, and they fade quickly when they're cut. Besides, seeing them en masse like that, open to the sun, was enough.
When H got back from the landfill he went and got the wheelbarrow and the rake for me to collect fallen limbs and twigs. Okay, wheelbarrow I can see, but really? The rake just gives me blisters. The bend and pick I was doing deliberately, in lieu of toe-touches, and the walking to and from the curbside pile was all part of the aerobic thing. Which really kicked my ass. I mean, beautiful day, bare knees, cool breeze, it should have been a pleasure, but I am woefully out of shape, and after the first half-hour my head was ready to explode from all the bending. It was also compounded by the fact that the two cherry, two apple, two weeping cherry, seven willow oak, two pecan, five maple, two smallish true oak, three plum, one gigantic dogwood and several unidentified "trash trees" in our yard are all in bloom right now. I had to come inside twice to blow my nose and wash my face, sit down and let my head stop pounding. But pickup sticks is all done now, and H is out making Big Noise with the mower.
We have Ray from Netflix, and maybe H will be in the mood to finish watching Sideways. He got up and went to bed in the middle of the getting-drunk-calling-the-ex-wife restaurant scene the other night, so he never got to the porch scene with Maya. I think if he gets that far, everything will fall into place and he'll grok the movie. But right now he's annoyed with it, so he may not be willing to give it another chance. Sad, really. I love that movie.
Okay, there's a shower calling my name. Four-hour drive tomorrow, but I have a new book to read, and I'm not driving!