My little girl, Annabelle! How she loved the garden and being outside and snuggles on my lap. I miss her mama personality. As you can see, Anna Banana owned the garden. The house. The yard. The couch. The bed. The chair. As any true cat does.
This Throwback Thursday flings us back to when we first started a little kitchen garden in our old house. This triangle plot used to be cement. TOTAL concrete. Ugh! After my honey worked his fingers to the bone removing icky cement, I went right to work, planting tiny rows of radish, lettuce, beans, peas. We added flowers, parsley, thyme, and even strawberries. And every year, I continued to remove bits of broken concrete that worked its way to the surface.
It bloomed, grew, produced, this little potager, and gave me hours of pleasure. It also transformed over time to include a fence (to keep tiny grands from trampling tender shoots), blueberries, a host of insects and pests, and a wide variety of vegetable experiments and floral specimens. The very best year of production was when our neighbor found and homed a swarm of honeybees. Oh, did we miss those bees when he moved!
Do you have a potager? A secret garden? A weed patch?
Lately we’ve been required to take the weather app predictions with an entire shaker full of salt (instead of a few grains).
But not today! The app said snow, and snow is the happening event. I think they are quite a bit off on the amount of snow they predicted, as I spent over an hour shoveling and my tracks, trails, and cleared areas disappeared beneath more inches of the pretty fluff before I finished.
What is .2 of an inch anyway? Not the mountains of snow piled around the RV and shop. Do they measure snow AFTER they melt it in a cup? I keep sweeping .2 off the deck. And the next time I look, I need to do it again. Percentage of error seems to be quite high.
.2 frozen in my hair
Blowing wind, heavy snow, cold air. Winter is back. With near 50 degrees last week, I was thinking spring, bulbs popping up new flowers, pleasant walks, sunny skies. Wait. I thought the groundhog did not see his shadow and spring is coming early?
Winter or not, I love the white stuff. So beautiful. A bear to drive in (I watched a semi back down the hill near us when he couldn’t make it to the top). Slippery footing. Cold. So peaceful. Quiet.
No late start today. I think that is going to change tomorrow. Get out those snow clothes back out. It’s sledding time!
2 a (1): incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result (Merriam-Webster, 2019)
There are three options for rescuing neglected metal clothesline poles. Not the wimpy aluminum, bendy sort; but the solid, steel, withstand heavy-duty sleeping bags and families of wet jeans type.
I watch for these opportunities. For case 1 and 2, the clothesline poles are clearly not in use. Besides the lack of actual line strung between poles, each one of the poles in on opposite sides of a 6-foot fence. This is not conducive to the drying of clothes.
For case 3, the location of said poles is just off a parking lot, in the middle of, well, basically nowhere.
None of these clothesline poles are being used, when in fact, they would all be happy in my neck of the woods. I would be quite overjoyed to adopt a set of metal twins and bring them into my family.
I tell you this, but the man is not so sure we should knock on the door of individuals we do not know and ask for permission to dig up, haul, and relocate said harbingers of summer laundry season.
Here’s the irony.
In the backyard of our lower valley home, we had THE best clothesline. It served us well for many years. Until we sold our home and moved north. One doesn’t know to take along the clothesline. For future want.
Several years and moves later, we lived in an older home with a postage stamp backyard. No clothesline. Et voila! Our son and daughter-in-law, having purchased a home with some space, were the owners of a set of clothesline poles. Unneeded clothesline poles. How that can be true, I have no idea. But at that time, it was true.
We were gifted the clothesline poles. Yay for me! The man figured how to wrangle a decent clothesline in our minuscule backyard, tucked behind the old shed. Perfect! I loved doing laundry and hanging it to dry on my clothesline.
Fast forward. We sold our home, bought an RV, and moved to-wait for it-our son and daugther-in-law’s home. Not a permanent move, but in order to work on building our own small home. Our residence here has stretched longer than we planned, but that’s what happens sometimes.
And the clothesline poles? The ones that were originally here? They are there. At the old home. And I am back to not having a clothesline.
Funny thing, irony. If we had been slower to add the new clothesline at the old house, we would have a clothesline here. Read this post to see the ironic clothesline.
I took this photo while visiting Claude Monet’s Giverny outside Paris. I’m happy to see layers of life and co-existence in the plant world.
Welcome to the Happy Hump Day Haiku Challenge! Please join the fun by adding your Haiku to the comments. Maybe one of the following will spark an idea for you.
Things with layers: cakes, clothes, buildings, rock formations, sandwiches, paintings, the sky, the Earth, casseroles, make-up, gardens, winter beds . . .
Ten years ago this spring, my honey and I spent 3 weeks in France. Most of our time we stayed in Paris, where flower shops and coiffured gardens displayed dazzling blooms. I loved gazing at the gorgeous blooms. And, according to my external hard drive, spent much time clicking photos to remind myself of their beauty.
The first two photos are favorites because of the price tags. Without those French words and Euro price tags, one would assume the flowers could be found on any continent during the proper season. Well, maybe not Antarctica or the Arctic.
One of my most favorite memories was taking a day trip to Giverny, the home of Claude Monet. I have been a long time admirer of his impressionistic work. With settings such as these, how could he NOT paint? Breathtaking! If you squint, you can see his featured bridge back beyond the willow trees.
This is a part of Monet’s home. We took a walking tour inside. I don’t have any photos of the inside, I think because we were not allowed to take pictures. It was inspiring to see the places he worked, slept, ate, and enjoyed family life. I would move in in a second!
The flower gardens are all that-and more! One could spend days exploring and not see it all. Actually, I want to return one day and spend the entire day soaking in the beauty.
Oh, the flowers that grow! Below you can see the green bridge covered in tourists. Alas, I attempted photos without the crowds, but you can see I created a false impression. 😉 Plenty of others had the same ideas we did about a day in the country.
Have you been inspired to travel some place special? What captured your imagination and led you to visit and explore?
It sounds odd now, when I say roots, but by choosing it, I claimed the focus of concentrating on my roots.
Not only my spiritual roots, but the roots of who I am as a woman, mother, daughter, sister, wife, Nana. The importance of roots in the natural world, my love of nature and gardening, hiking, photography-all played a part in my word choice. My roots anchor me to who I was, am, and will be. With my roots firmly attached to Jesus, I know I am secure and safe from the storms of life, ponderous and damaging though they be.
My art project incorporating the word ROOTS didn’t pop into my head until well after the year got underway. Using watercolor paints, permanent markers, glitter glue (after all, life can always use more sparkle), ink, and rubber stamps, I created a piece to remind me of my word of the year.
My art was not stagnant the entire year. As I found more Bible verses or sayings, had thoughts about the word, or saw something missing and filled it in, I added to my project. I really like the finished look. It occupied a space on my work bulletin board where it was easy to see.
Tomorrow I will share my new 2019 word of the year. I’ve had some thoughts about it, some unique applications already in place. Just recently, the image for my art project popped into my mind, but it is not yet on paper.
Happy New Year! Welcome to the first Happy Hump Day Haiku Challenge of 2019. I hope you’ll join the fun by commenting or writing your own winter Haiku.
After a writing day of sitting at the table, this person had to get some moves on! Writing is great for the mind, but deadly for the backside.
After a bout of shoveling slush, I fixed the snowman’s melted face. He’d lost his ability to see, smell, and smile, poor fellow.
I walked to the top of the hill to see what I could see. But all I could see was the other side of the hill
I made my own rectangular snow walk, smartly going round and round, turning sharp corners and attempting straight paths. Apparently I can’t walk a straight line.
But still, the designs in the snow are intriguing, and shadows cast by the melting sun throw footprints into blue relief.
If only I were a raven, my bird’s eye view would snatch hidden gems from the mystery that is snow and sun, freezing and melting, white and blue.
Despite my love for cats, I adore birds. I just can’t put feeders out. That’s like saying, “Here, kitty, kitty! All you can eat buffet!” My Monet is a great hunter on her own, without my baiting traps for her.
So, I enjoy the birds that fly beyond her reach or call from barns, trees, and migration routes. She can’t get to those. In my car I keep a falling apart copy of a bird identification book. It’s amazing how many birds I can spot, research, and identify while my honey is driving over rivers and through woods. I’ve learned much about birds on our road trips.
After reading this post via Writers Rumpus, I discovered more bird books I need to read. Just in time for winter birding! I’m sending a big thank you to the authors, illustrators, and Kirsti Call (Writers Rumpus). Thank you!
Love, Laughter, and Life 