Garden views

“The best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there.” - George Bernard Shaw

Roses and more roses.

You might call it a rusty fence, but we like to think of it as aged patina.

I don't know what it is, but I love it, I do.

Bright and sunny in the red pots.

Petunias beginning to climb.

Love, love, love red geraniums. Always have and always will.

Peek-a-boo frog has seen many seasons from the back porch; so has the antique crock.

I know why they call them impatients - I can wait to see more purple-y blooms.

That tiny, tiny bud? Gonna be a tomato on my salad very soon.

"To forget how to dig the earth and to tend the soil is to forget ourselves." - Mahatma Gandhi

A week or so

Since the last time I blogged, I’ve done all the mundane, everyday things that I do each week, as I am sure you have too. Groceries were purchased, several trips to Target were made, work was endeavored, gas was pumped, laundry was done … blah, blah, blah.

Yet, in the midst of that blah, there were some notable things. Here goes: 

School is over and my son is now considered a freshman in high school. He is done with middle school as of last Wednesday and he would tell you it was a great experience – the opposite of my own experience – and I am so glad for that. He won several awards for academic excellence and musicianship (he rocks – literally). Proud of my nerdy cool kid.

Lorri vs. dental floss: floss, 1; Lorri, 0. I was flossing my teeth Wednesday night and the floss inexplicably shredded, bunching up in a big, inaccessible mound between my teeth, rendering it utterly impossible to remove. And painful. And completely ridiculous. I had to visit an emergency dentist the next day and pay him an inordinate amount of money to magically floss what felt like a sock out of my teeth.  

The dog got a bath. Here's the thing: we don’t give him baths at home; he goes to a bathing station at a pet supply store. But at 11:30 p.m. Thursday night, he came in from the backyard reeking of rolled-in death and so in the tub he went, all 80 indignant pounds of him. And then I had to clean the whole house to mitigate the loose dog hair and wet dog stench. 

Hello. My name is Jax and I immediately regret my decision to roll in or otherwise associate myself with materials of a possible organic origin that may or may not currently be dead. Furthermore, should such an occasion arise and I am not able to resist such activities of my own accord, I do solemnly swear to avoid coming back into the home my family has generously provided for me and make a run for the den sofa, despite the pleas of said family to “freaking stop right now, Mister.”

The house was full of teen boys. They celebrated the end of school with a matinee of the latest Star Trek movie, video games, DVDs and a round of paintball as part of a sleepover at our place. Observation: teenage boys eat a lot.

My sister came to see me. On Saturday, we shopped. We ate lunch. I introduced her to Home Goods, her new favorite store. Members of my own family rarely come to see me, but she does with ever more frequency and I enjoy the time we share.

Brick patio is done, complete with fire pit. My guy? He’s awesome. He did it pretty much by himself, with a little help from our son and me. My wish of sharing the space with friends came true last night. And after everyone had headed home for the night, hubs and I sat outside together under the moon’s creamy glow warming ourselves from the chill and enjoying the last dance of the fire. Damn romantic if I do say so.

A 12 x 11 slice of backyard brick paradise.

Dreamy moon on a cool night by the fire pit.

We hosted a cookout. Twenty-three friends joined us at our humble little house for good food – what is better than a potluck, really? - and laughter. We are so very blessed with good friends.

Lawn Twister for the kids. Spray paint the circles and play in the grass.

My son sliced off part of the tip of his finger. He is ok. No stitches even; just a notch missing. He was slicing potatoes as prep for our cookout yesterday and, well … um, culinary school is not in his future. And judging by his drop in blood pressure at the sight of blood at the Urgent Care Center (there was a lot of blood), he can also rule out a future in the medical profession. Could have been worse, but, thankfully, it wasn’t.

Murderer.

Planted all my flowers and veggies. There is no better therapy than digging in the dirt, as its rewards are plentiful. Taking a little something and nurturing it into something more, something glorious, something that lives and reveals God’s love to us through its beauty … that’s cool. 

I took nap today. A long nap. It was scrumptious. Never underestimate the power of letting go in the middle of the afternoon, surrendering to your dreams and visions, to really right yourself.

None of these things were grand events. But I greatly appreciate the fact that I was able to do these things in and near my home because I have a home and my heart goes out to those who have recently lost their homes and so much more due to catastrophic storms.

And on this Memorial Day, I send a heartfelt thanks to veterans still here, and those already gone, for their service. My little life would be forever changed were it not for their sacrifice, and I am humbled. Thank you.

Finally, I also spent part of my time last week at the hospital with someone I love who is struggling, both physically and emotionally. Prayer. That’s all I got to offer.

I hope you have a blessed, wonderful week.

Springtime sprucing

There's a bag of dog poop on my porch.

My son has been on backyard pick-up duty (or doodie duty, I like to call it … because I am a 6^th grade boy at heart) and that’s a good thing. In fact, the whole yard is finally getting some springtime sprucing, even though it’s practically summer (only two days left in the school year!).

Unusually cooler weather has kept our planting efforts at bay the last couple of weeks. Early last week, we covered the newly-relocated hostas because of the threat of frost. Yesterday, it was 90+ degrees.

Spring in Indiana … what ya gonna do?

But I love how pretty our little house looks when spring arrives. Hubs has been busy pulling out dead bushes and replanting, moving existing plants to better locales, scooping load after load of fresh mulch onto tired, faded beds, and generally making our little slice of the world utterly precious. He’s good at this and enjoys it and it shows.

I also love how the days stretch long in the Eastern Time Zone. It’s almost 9 p.m. and I can still hear the rummm of the lawnmower. Hubs loves that it’s our son manning the push mower in the fenced portion of the yard and not him. Hubs is busy shoveling dirt into a wheelbarrow, having started a brick patio project this afternoon. It’s only the first step of the project, but I can already envision us sitting around the fire pit, enjoying a laughter-filled evening with friends in the near future.

It’s going to be a brick patio. Eventually.

Eventually.

Never misses an opportunity to play in the dirt.

For now, though, the sun has eased into a soft teal sky, with a puff of pink fading into orange. A shiny moon beams silver as it rises. There’s just barely enough daylight left to finish the push mowing. Tomorrow, perhaps, hubs or kiddo will finish cutting the rest of our yard with the riding mower.

See those bricks in the background? You know where they’re eventually headed. Eventually.

I’ve watered the little Cleveland pear tree that hubs planted two weeks ago to replace a Bradford pear that was plucked and tossed by a violent storm a few years ago. We left the spot empty all these years for no reason in particular. It just seemed right to plant something now.

I also tended to the lilac bushes hubs relocated last week. They seemed to have recovered from the shock of the move. Our hope is that they will have more room to bloom and flourish away from the overbearing knockout roses. When we planted the roses two years ago, we had no idea they would eventually become petulant toddlers, bullying the tender lilacs into submission. So we separated them like sparring children. Of course, the roses can only blame us for their rude behavior, as we have been remiss in our parenting duties by not pruning them properly. 

She’s pretty, but she’s mean.

There’s a new evergreen to replace the old dead ones and in the distance you can see the lilacs in their pretty new digs and their hulking siblings, the roses, safely beyond. 

Our house sits on a half-acre corner lot and now the lilacs have a pretty new bed that really adds to the curb appeal along the side you can see from the street rounding the corner. The other side of our house? Well, I haven’t had a chance to plant anything there yet this season, so the neighbors get a view of the “bird garden” – birdbath, bird feeder, bird houses - complete with a bird-bombed St. Francis, until some coleus blasts it with color.

Technically Saint Francis wasn’t a martyr, but he’s definitely taking hits in the bird garden.

The veggie garden beds are getting fresh dirt and I will dig into them this weekend to plant tomatoes and bell peppers that we will enjoy as salsa long after the garden has gone into hibernation. 

My planters still sit empty, staring at me with sad, dirty expressions. But soon they will beam with red, yellow and purple smiles, and I’ll happily relax alongside them with a glass of lemonade and a good book, listening to the buzz and hum of the neighborhood. 

Some day they will be glorious.

The sun has set on this lovely Monday and so I am left to dream of my garden for the rest of the night … as soon as I dispose of that bag of dog poop that was abandoned on the porch.

Scenes from a Wednesday

Hump Day.  I know it’s supposed to be this glorious declaration that the week’s half over: We’re over the hump! But Wednesdays sometimes leave me with the blahs. Two days down and I’m completely worn out … what are the next two days going to do to me?

So I tend to turn Wednesdays into gratitude days. I’m thankful for the little things that bring comfort on a long day in the middle of the week.

 For example:

These lilac bushes are planted right off my back porch and are incredibly fragrant right now. 

They almost cover up the smell of dog poop in the backyard.

Almost.

A pretty blue dress with polka dots, a lunchtime purchase that I am saving for a special afternoon to come.

If this music doesn’t make you smile, then please check your pulse; you might actually be dead.

When a DC from McD isn’t handy, this’ll do just fine.

Sweet Callie turned up as a stray in our yard last year, injured, starved and nearly dead. 

Today? 

Little miss sass rules this house.

Bamboo wind chimes plunking against each other in a spring breeze make other chimes sounds like sissies.

Sue Heck from this week’s episode of The Middle, best sitcom out there (Sorry Big Bang Theory; Modern Family, I do not even want to talk to you).

I do not know who Gigi is, but I can tell you that chick can make some cake. And even though this particular chocolate something-fancy-named cupcake fell over in the box, the taste remained intact.  

A rose from mother’s day blooms beautifully in an old milk bottle in the kitchen windowsill.

Dip these beauties in chocolate pudding and then thank me for telling you to do it.

Purple petunias. ‘Nuff said.

What little comforts make your day brighter?