Tuesday, January 31, 2017

{gardening and such}

It would be beneficial to my personal happiness sometimes to not post about our situation with my mom, and maybe focus on MY LIFE, which is what this blog is supposed to be about anyhow.  Gracious.  How one-track-minded I can be.  My head runs like a gutterball in bowling.  Get me stuck in a groove and try to get me out of it.

Glorious outside today, temperatures yesterday and today around sixties/seventies.  Smells like spring, but not ready just yet.  Daffodils are pushing up and a couple of our lilies.  Back in the fall my husband used Round-up, which I tend to shy away from, on the beds that border our front walk.  This is the area I've photographed so many times in the past with its profusion of black-eyed Susans and whatnot.  The whatnot had overtaken the beds and this last summer I was not pleased.  I hadn't had time to weed and it was all gnarly and overgrown.  More rangy than pretty.  My husband said we should just start over, so he brought home the weed killer he'd had leftover from his church caretaker work and sprayed the remainder on our beds.  I marked the lilies, a plumeria and a couple of other things which I can't remember, and everything else got blasted.   Now I need to put my mind to thinking of what I'd like to fill that area with.  The beds lining the sidewalk are about 36" wide, and not sure of the length from the house to the public sidewalk area, but probably about 12' or so.  I'd rather the beds not be so crowded, but I do enjoy flowers with some height to them.  And perennials are the best, since you can be lazy and they'll come up, no matter.  Like that idea.  Plant 'em and walk away.

Cleaned out the chicken coop today.  Put on my apron and messy clogs and enjoyed sitting out with them, Milk and Nora hopping right up in my lap, but Anastasia contenting herself with pecking my skirt.  Two eggs today.  A friend at church tends to give us eggs as well, their chickens being a smaller breed and their eggs being adorably small.  Sometimes they bring duck eggs to church, which bother me a bit.  Larger than an extra-large hen egg and quite a thick shell.  The shells are a bit blue-colored too.  Pretty.  I feel like duck eggs like I feel about wild meat.  Elk and deer meat especially.  Can't get my head around eating them.  Even with our own chickens, I can't eat the eggs fresh that day.  I have to chill them, THEN I can eat them.  Go figure.

* * *

Everyone is healing from the cold here, but my mom's taking the longest time.  She and my husband butted heads yesterday, him telling her that even if she feels ill, she has to get out of bed and walk a bit.  She wasn't a fan of hearing that, and today has been very quiet, with her demonstrating the age old practice of the silent treatment.  Gracious.  Days of old revisiting me.  My loud Irish husband isn't one to be silent at any cost, so to have her be silent as a protest is making him itch.  Me too, for that matter.

And so it goes.

Grateful for diversions and beautiful days.  Funny how you learn to cope, re-focus and try to control the effect others have on your own life.  You grow stronger if you must, and I guess my greatest achievement in this nonsensical life I live now is to keep reminding myself to put my husband and my children first.  Makes heaps of difference.

1 comment:

Cathy said...

I loved reading about your time in the henhouse wiht your hens. You know I use to love cleaning out my henhouse...weird, no other word for it.