Happy Saturday!
June 14, 2010
June 12, 2011
June 2, 2012
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
Putting down roots
I spent most of my twenties and a good chunk of my thirties wandering. Five years was the longest I stayed anywhere. I lived in a succession of dorm rooms, rented rooms, and apartments. At many times I lacked a permanent job. Teaching in New York was my first Real Stable Job -- and of course housing costs there were far, far beyond my means for all but the most meager co-op in a giant building.
In a nutshell, this is why I wanted a house.
I wanted a house for about ten years before I finally up and bought one.
One of the reasons I bought this specific house was the back yard. It's safe to say that I saw the back yard and ignored most of the house.
This is not to say that the yard was perfect. I have had to do a lot of work, both to remedy the neglect it suffered (the owner was in her 90s) and to shape it to reflect my own preferences.
The front yard in particular was trying. About a third of it was phlox, a third dirt, and the remaining third, mulch.
Phlox is very pretty for about two weeks in April (which, coincidentally, was when I first saw the house). The rest of the time it's pretty much nothing. I moved into the house in June, so there was a limited amount I could do. I put the front garden off until the following spring
I wanted very specific plants for this garden. Swinky sent me a box of goodness that included all kinds of zombie love and gladiola bulbs in purple and green. Zombie mix, she said, and the idea for the Zombie Garden was born.
With that in mind, I spent the winter planning out my garden.
I scoured the Internet for the plants I wanted at reasonable prices. I wanted very specific things, and most importantly, green envy echinacea.
In a nutshell, this is why I wanted a house.
I wanted a house for about ten years before I finally up and bought one.
One of the reasons I bought this specific house was the back yard. It's safe to say that I saw the back yard and ignored most of the house.
This is not to say that the yard was perfect. I have had to do a lot of work, both to remedy the neglect it suffered (the owner was in her 90s) and to shape it to reflect my own preferences.
The front yard in particular was trying. About a third of it was phlox, a third dirt, and the remaining third, mulch.
Phlox is very pretty for about two weeks in April (which, coincidentally, was when I first saw the house). The rest of the time it's pretty much nothing. I moved into the house in June, so there was a limited amount I could do. I put the front garden off until the following spring
I wanted very specific plants for this garden. Swinky sent me a box of goodness that included all kinds of zombie love and gladiola bulbs in purple and green. Zombie mix, she said, and the idea for the Zombie Garden was born.
With that in mind, I spent the winter planning out my garden.
The company I ordered from last year has enough bad reviews on the Garden Watchdog to dissuade anyone who does a little research from ordering from them. Last year I didn't know about this fantastic site and took a chance. Bad move. At first I thought awesome, I will totally order from The Nursery That Shall Not Be Named again because they pretty much sent me twice as much of everything as I ordered. The plants were teeny tiny and their roots wrapped in plastic and newspaper, but I was like, okay, maybe that's just how they come.
But then I planted the coneflowers and waited for them to grow and they were totally not what I ordered. They were still coneflowers, but they were not the coneflowers I was looking for.
So they grew, but they were spindly, and not what I ordered. Granted they also do a free plant deal, and one of the free plants, I have to say, is doing much better than any of the other plants I got from them (several died, though we did have a late frost). This is the free Red Weigela, which I just moved into the ground to replace the giant yucca I dug out. It was...yucca.
The other free plant never got beyond the stick phase and I ditched it this spring.
So I was sourcing my green envy again this year and thought, I wonder if there are reviews of mail-order nurseries. There are. Dave's Garden is awesome; the Garden Watchdog which contains reviews of mail-order nurseries is only one of their fantastic features. Do be careful and watch the date of the reviews; the merchant I ordered from had some bad reviews a couple years ago...but many of those reviews were later changed to good reviews because they made it right. Recent reviews show they have really improved their business. While I am certainly someone who is more likely to just take my business elsewhere than complain to a business, I think you really do have to complain if there's a chance that the people might actually want your business and be willing to make it right.
I was totally impressed with the size and plant-like-ness of what came to me. The packing was pretty awesome. Lots of cardboard, lots of vertical space, and little tucky-inny things so the plants stayed put in their sheaths.
So here's one of my new plants, tucked into my higgledy-piggeldy front patch. I am optimistic about the outcome, but of course it will take a couple months to find out.
The undead glads came up really nicely.
I did have to relocate a couple to the back yard this spring, and will probably have to dig them up and separate them in the fall because, holy moley, bulbs multiply!!!
But then I planted the coneflowers and waited for them to grow and they were totally not what I ordered. They were still coneflowers, but they were not the coneflowers I was looking for.
So they grew, but they were spindly, and not what I ordered. Granted they also do a free plant deal, and one of the free plants, I have to say, is doing much better than any of the other plants I got from them (several died, though we did have a late frost). This is the free Red Weigela, which I just moved into the ground to replace the giant yucca I dug out. It was...yucca.
The other free plant never got beyond the stick phase and I ditched it this spring.
So I was sourcing my green envy again this year and thought, I wonder if there are reviews of mail-order nurseries. There are. Dave's Garden is awesome; the Garden Watchdog which contains reviews of mail-order nurseries is only one of their fantastic features. Do be careful and watch the date of the reviews; the merchant I ordered from had some bad reviews a couple years ago...but many of those reviews were later changed to good reviews because they made it right. Recent reviews show they have really improved their business. While I am certainly someone who is more likely to just take my business elsewhere than complain to a business, I think you really do have to complain if there's a chance that the people might actually want your business and be willing to make it right.
I was totally impressed with the size and plant-like-ness of what came to me. The packing was pretty awesome. Lots of cardboard, lots of vertical space, and little tucky-inny things so the plants stayed put in their sheaths.
So here's one of my new plants, tucked into my higgledy-piggeldy front patch. I am optimistic about the outcome, but of course it will take a couple months to find out.
The undead glads came up really nicely.
I did have to relocate a couple to the back yard this spring, and will probably have to dig them up and separate them in the fall because, holy moley, bulbs multiply!!!
Monday, April 9, 2012
Tapas
The word of the week is tapas. Ironically this was chosen a bit lazily, as it was on the back of the card with last week's word. Tapas is variously translated as fire, heat, burning enthusiasm. Something I have been lacking lately, so I decided it was the right word.
Well, not so much lacking as I have been overwhelmed, running from one thing to the next, constantly, not having enough time to simply sit and be. In some ways this flurry of activity is good, because it keeps me from thinking too much about those things that I can't change, or don't yet know how to change. But feeling tired and overwhelmed is not good.
And so in the midst of a week when I was supposed to be thinking about burning enthusiasm, I skipped those things that I supposedly feel the most enthusiasm for -- dance and yoga -- and sat at home weeding the peonies.
Which, as it turns out, is another thing for which I have burning enthusiasm.
What I've learned about tapas this week is that it's not just doing things with enthusiasm -- it's finding the things for which I have the most enthusiasm, and making sure I do those things as well as the things which I "have to do" (like work, and clean the bathroom -- both things that bring benefits that I want to experience, but not things I would define as "enjoyable").
That brings me back to a poem by David Whyte I first heard in a movement workshop at Kripalu. The poem ends
Well, not so much lacking as I have been overwhelmed, running from one thing to the next, constantly, not having enough time to simply sit and be. In some ways this flurry of activity is good, because it keeps me from thinking too much about those things that I can't change, or don't yet know how to change. But feeling tired and overwhelmed is not good.
And so in the midst of a week when I was supposed to be thinking about burning enthusiasm, I skipped those things that I supposedly feel the most enthusiasm for -- dance and yoga -- and sat at home weeding the peonies.
Which, as it turns out, is another thing for which I have burning enthusiasm.
What I've learned about tapas this week is that it's not just doing things with enthusiasm -- it's finding the things for which I have the most enthusiasm, and making sure I do those things as well as the things which I "have to do" (like work, and clean the bathroom -- both things that bring benefits that I want to experience, but not things I would define as "enjoyable").
That brings me back to a poem by David Whyte I first heard in a movement workshop at Kripalu. The poem ends
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
Remembering this every day, with every choice I make about how to spend my moments.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
From winter to spring
I am anxiously awaiting the crocuses.
By all accounts, they should be up by now. However, I've never had much luck with bulbs, despite the incredibly easy instructions on the package and the relatively little care they appear to need. Place deep in the ground, allow to freeze, wait, be amazed. Isn't that the way they're supposed to work?
I've seen some bulbs attempting to push their way through the industrial soil by the train tracks as I walk to work, and making their way out of the neighbors' mulch, but mine are reluctant. I wonder if they became food to the bunnies and squirrels that tease my cats during the fall.
Fall displays of bulbs get me every time, despite my lack of success in the past. As the weather grows colder and the days get shorter, I need the hope that they give me - the hope that spring will come again, that things will get better, that the sun will return.
It's the same hope that I need to keep going when the things we call "negative emotions" start rearing their heads. Last night I was assaulted by a wave of jealousy, loss, and regret.
My throat is tight, my shoulders are up around my ears. With every breath I have to tell myself to relax.
My reactions are mine, and all I can do is stand back, look at my reactions, and determine the best course to follow. Which is why I put quotation marks around negative emotions - because all emotions exist, and we all have them. It's what we do with them that's important. I felt myself composing statements that I would regret uttering, so I left the situation.
We have talked a bit in Yoga Teacher Training about suffering as a choice - that pain will come and go, but we can choose whether we suffer from it. This struck me as a powerful idea - that I can choose not to suffer. But when pain comes, making that choice becomes difficult. How do I detach my emotions from the events, remove my need to interpret, react, make sense, and instead simply observe what I feel and let it pass?
I'm not there yet, and so I need my crocuses to come up. To remind me that there is hope. There is spring, and that new things come to take the place of old things.
In another month the peonies will begin to poke their strange voodoo heads through the ground, and spring will begin in earnest.
By all accounts, they should be up by now. However, I've never had much luck with bulbs, despite the incredibly easy instructions on the package and the relatively little care they appear to need. Place deep in the ground, allow to freeze, wait, be amazed. Isn't that the way they're supposed to work?
Source: flowersgallery.net via Katherine on Pinterest.
These are not my actual crocuses. Because I'm still waiting for them.
I've seen some bulbs attempting to push their way through the industrial soil by the train tracks as I walk to work, and making their way out of the neighbors' mulch, but mine are reluctant. I wonder if they became food to the bunnies and squirrels that tease my cats during the fall.
Fall displays of bulbs get me every time, despite my lack of success in the past. As the weather grows colder and the days get shorter, I need the hope that they give me - the hope that spring will come again, that things will get better, that the sun will return.
Last year's hyacinths took me by surprise.
It's the same hope that I need to keep going when the things we call "negative emotions" start rearing their heads. Last night I was assaulted by a wave of jealousy, loss, and regret.
My throat is tight, my shoulders are up around my ears. With every breath I have to tell myself to relax.
My reactions are mine, and all I can do is stand back, look at my reactions, and determine the best course to follow. Which is why I put quotation marks around negative emotions - because all emotions exist, and we all have them. It's what we do with them that's important. I felt myself composing statements that I would regret uttering, so I left the situation.
We have talked a bit in Yoga Teacher Training about suffering as a choice - that pain will come and go, but we can choose whether we suffer from it. This struck me as a powerful idea - that I can choose not to suffer. But when pain comes, making that choice becomes difficult. How do I detach my emotions from the events, remove my need to interpret, react, make sense, and instead simply observe what I feel and let it pass?
I'm not there yet, and so I need my crocuses to come up. To remind me that there is hope. There is spring, and that new things come to take the place of old things.
These would be the peonies of last year.
In another month the peonies will begin to poke their strange voodoo heads through the ground, and spring will begin in earnest.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
New beginnings
What "detached" is changes, depending on the day and the things I'm working on. For several months now, I've been detached from the blog itself as I sorted out issues involving employment, career path, and state of mind.
Or perhaps I shouldn't use the past tense there, since none of these things are "sorted out" in any permanent sense. Sometimes not even in a temporary sense.
One thing I've come to accept is that all things are temporary and provisional. The trouble with that is the tendency to get caught up in the future - what happens when this ends? What will I do then? I think that's what I was talking about when I talked about redoing the kitchen - that even while I had the job, I was afraid to spend money for fear of what might happen in a few months. Perhaps this was a wise decision financially, but perhaps it was unnecessary. Eight months have passed since I lost my job, and I haven't dipped into my savings at all. I've been earning and turning down unemployment. I haven't always loved what I was doing, but from mid-August on I was earning enough or nearly enough.
In the meantime, I've delayed some joy.
Not all of it. There have been many, many moments of joy, particularly since the new year arrived. A new, though temporary, job has helped me to be kinder to myself and to move away from those days of fear and doubt. We've had an exceptionally mild winter. I've changed in so many ways.
So I've decided to retry the blog, explore the things I hold onto and the things I have let fall away.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Planning a plan
After spending an hour or so in the backyard pulling weeds and deadheading the peonies, I think I have a revised version of The Plan. The Original Plan was made a couple days before I actually heard I would not be renewed. It's needed a bit of tweaking.
Since I already have secured a 4-in-the-morning job at a Big Box Establishment, I will keep it. The job doesn't pay well and isn't full time and is only supposed to exist for a few months of the pre-college-student-arrival season. I anticipate brightly-colored reading lamps and ersatz milk crates. I do not expect to remain at this job much longer than a month.
I'm not as bad off, financially, as I feel. I have the money that didn't go toward the down payment on the house (they do a percent down, not an amount) and the new homebuyer tax credit. I was hoping to spend this money on a new kitchen, but a new kitchen is just going to have to wait. I know people who have lived with their disasterkitchens for years. I am just going to have to deal with it.
I also have one more paycheck coming that is "the balance of my contract." I'm not actually sure how much this is, but it's a paycheck.
What the Big Box job allows me to do is refrain (slightly, for a limited amount of time) from dipping into my savings. It requires me to get out of bed (even if I get back into bed and have a nap right after) several days a week and engage with the other humans. It allows me to sit in front of the computer every day and apply for jobs. If, in a month, I don't have something (and I may not - I fully realize that it could take months), then I will sign up with a few temporary agencies. By that time I should have applied for enough of the jobs for which I am qualified that I will only find a few jobs per week that I need to apply for.
What I need to do right now is 1) not panic and 2) apply, apply, apply. By that time I will also know if I am getting unemployment compensation and how much it is. It allows me to have a little leeway to spend money on things like coffee and yoga and West Coast Swing classes - things that make me happy and make life just a little more bearable - without feeling like I'm spending money that should go toward bills. Everyone says to keep trying to do the things that make me feel good, which is hard because so many things cost money.
Filling your garbage can with weeds, however, is free, and quite satisfying, and I get to spend time outside with these beauties.
Since I already have secured a 4-in-the-morning job at a Big Box Establishment, I will keep it. The job doesn't pay well and isn't full time and is only supposed to exist for a few months of the pre-college-student-arrival season. I anticipate brightly-colored reading lamps and ersatz milk crates. I do not expect to remain at this job much longer than a month.
I'm not as bad off, financially, as I feel. I have the money that didn't go toward the down payment on the house (they do a percent down, not an amount) and the new homebuyer tax credit. I was hoping to spend this money on a new kitchen, but a new kitchen is just going to have to wait. I know people who have lived with their disasterkitchens for years. I am just going to have to deal with it.
I also have one more paycheck coming that is "the balance of my contract." I'm not actually sure how much this is, but it's a paycheck.
What the Big Box job allows me to do is refrain (slightly, for a limited amount of time) from dipping into my savings. It requires me to get out of bed (even if I get back into bed and have a nap right after) several days a week and engage with the other humans. It allows me to sit in front of the computer every day and apply for jobs. If, in a month, I don't have something (and I may not - I fully realize that it could take months), then I will sign up with a few temporary agencies. By that time I should have applied for enough of the jobs for which I am qualified that I will only find a few jobs per week that I need to apply for.
What I need to do right now is 1) not panic and 2) apply, apply, apply. By that time I will also know if I am getting unemployment compensation and how much it is. It allows me to have a little leeway to spend money on things like coffee and yoga and West Coast Swing classes - things that make me happy and make life just a little more bearable - without feeling like I'm spending money that should go toward bills. Everyone says to keep trying to do the things that make me feel good, which is hard because so many things cost money.
Filling your garbage can with weeds, however, is free, and quite satisfying, and I get to spend time outside with these beauties.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
