Taking A Time Out

March 12, 2012 By

Weeping Cherry

I love the quote that Tiferet Journal posted on Facebook today:

“Stop the words now.
Open the window in the center of your chest & let the spirits fly in & out. “

I’m taking this to heart.  I’ve hit a wall in my writing and it’s time for me to take a little break from being so OCD about it.  This week and maybe even next week, I’m taking a break.  The weather here is supposed to be spectacular with temps in the mid-seventies. Sounds like gardening weather to me.  Everything that usually blooms much later in the spring is blooming here now, including magnolia, forsythia, daffodils, crocus, snow drops, cherry trees and pears.  I’m going to clean up what the winter rendered dead, prune and reshape straggling shrubs, get my hands dirty and play with my plants.

I also plan on making art.  The encaustics have been calling my name for several weeks now and I’ve been ignoring them, believing that writing was all I could handle. Not true!  Without some balance in my life, everything comes to a screeching halt.

And finally, being the introvert that I am, I realize I shut myself off in my studio way too much.  Tomorrow I’m having lunch with a friend.  Not only are the windows in my house open letting the promise of spring spirits fly through.  I’m opening the big window in my heart and coming alive.

Filed Under: Encaustics, Healthy Living, Life, Matters of the Spirit, The Garden, Writing Tagged With:

Giving Thanks

November 23, 2011 By

Today is Thanksgiving Eve.  There is so much to celebrate and to be grateful for, I don’t know where to begin. But needing to begin somewhere, I am grateful for this lovely Iris that I planted last spring.

It is one that blooms twice a year, in spring and in the fall.  I’ve been admiring them in a garden that I’m familiar with for several seasons. Even entertained the idea of slipping in one moonless night with a shovel.  But of course that is stealing.  This bit of loveliness that I carefully set in my garden in May did not bloom at that time, but weeks ago I began to see signs that she was getting ready to present me with a glorious Thanksgiving gift.  It has been a fairly warm fall here, but we’ve had hard freezes and still she stayed the course.  I am grateful for this bit of color, as the rest of garden goes brown for the winter.

Peppermint

I am grateful for my veterinarian, Richard,  who is working with two of my pets who have been strangely ill these last weeks.  He’s promised to not charge me for rent because I’m in his office so often and kindly puts up with my panic when Peppermint, the cat, can’t walk without falling over or when sweet Molly, my little Maltese-mix , throws up all over the place and is in serious pain.  Both are doing better, but seem to have life long issues that they will need medication for.

Molly

I am grateful for all of my family.  My supportive husband who edits and helps me clean up most of these posts. He seems to know where I’m coming from and where I’m going before I do.  My children and grandchildren continue to be my teachers and sparkling rays of sunshine on dark, rainy days. For my brother, Zed, who has helped me through much loss.

I am grateful for all my helpers along the way.  Kevin, for recently agreeing to be my writing coach as I begin to cross treacherous seas and entertain the idea of a book.  He will be going off on a Semester At Sea, Around the World Cruise in the New Year. With his other coaching and writing jobs he may not be with me for long, but he is giving me phenomenal direction, not by telling me what to do, but by asking pertinent questions.

I am grateful to my dear friend, Sharon, who through her own pain, steadily holds the torch for me while I dig through layers of the past.  I can’t do it without the light she sheds on my life.

I am grateful to all of you who come to visit here and let me know what you think, whether by leaving a comment or sending an email.  I am grateful for all of you who don’t leave comments but come back again and again.  I know you are out there.

I am grateful for the richness of my life … my friends, those I find difficult, and the day-to-day comings and goings of people and creatures who cross my path.

May Peace Be With You All!

Filed Under: Animals I Love, family, Gratefulness, Life, stories, Thanksgiving, The Garden, The Seasons

How The Garden Grows

July 17, 2011 By

I’m sending along a few photos of my garden.  We’ve had ample rain in the past few weeks and little of the typical, hazy, hot and humid weather we’re famous for. The plants are happy and so am I.  The rain barrel is installed and I’m still using water from my daily showers and dish washing to water those things that need water on a daily basis.

Next week, watch out!  What has been sitting over the middle of the country overheating the land is heading our way.  It’s during heat waves that Virginia gardens often just give up and wither away.  August can be a very sorry month, with lots of yellowing and leaf drop.  But in late September and October, things snap to again with lovely fall foliage and flowers that like warm days and cool nights better than what mid-summer has to offer.

Crepe Myrtle

As I always do in mid-July, I’m looking forward to the fall.  Heat and humidity make me lethargic and lazy.  Working in the garden becomes difficult.  But since I don’t want to wish my life away, I try to be mindful of each and every moment, good and not-so-good.  A pair of Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds keep me on track as they sip nectar from the Bee Balm. I ‘ve not installed a feeder for them. They simply enjoy feeding from the plants I put in just for them.

Purple Coneflower

“I have said on occasion that I think gardening is nearer to godliness than theology. … True gardeners are both iconographers and theologians insofar as these activities are the fruit of prayer “without ceasing.” Likewise, true gardeners never cease to garden, not even in their sleep, because gardening is not just something they do. It is how they live.”

Vigen Guroian,  On Leaving the Garden

Blanket Flower
Filed Under: The Garden

Water

June 22, 2011 By

*In a drought there’s only one thing to do … wait.  We tried collecting rain in buckets.  But there was no rain.  A line of white plastic pails sat hopefully under the roof line, the heat slowly turning them green on the inside.  The garden grew, somehow, except for the lettuce, planted and replanted, but it just won’t germinate in dust.  Then the well went dry.  Dirty dishwater saved in a watering can, only goes so far in a big garden, and there is less and less waste water as we tighten our usage more and more. Hauling water from town guarantees that. 

During the past seven days, a three-week dry spell ended. I’d been watering my newly planted garden by hand on a daily basis using dirty dishwater and an occassional spritz with the hose,  but now I can take a break.  We’ve had little bits of unmeasurable rain almost every day, mostly late afternoons after the heat of day builds up and during the night, keeping the ground slightly damp.  Then on Sunday, a big rain overnight left two welcome inches in my rain gauge and yesterday another half an inch was gifted us.

There is a one-hundred-twenty gallon rain barrel sitting in the yard but it is not hooked up.  I wait for the for the man who delivered it two weeks ago and promised to come back the next day to install it.  Yesterday, as the afternoon rains came he called to say he was on his way but then decided not to come because of the hail, the thunder, the lightning. Who can blame him?

The people of  Florida are living through a long, hard drought.  I was told that rain levels are down some 25 inches.  Lake levels are down in some areas six or seven feet. There are wildfires breaking out.  Around the world all creatures, human and non-human, wait for the rains to come.

Back in 2004 we had a serious drought here in Central Virginia.  I had moved several years prior to a home situated on the banks of the South Fork Rivanna River Reservoir which is the main source of water for the city of Charlottesville.  We were on a well, but afraid to run it dry, I didn’t water my newly landscaped gardens. The river fell to alarming levels, more like a small stream than the wide expanse of moving water it usually was. Water restrictions were put in place.  I read a newspaper article about a new company in town specializing in harvesting rainwater and became the proud owner of a 3,000 gallon + underground tank, filled with rainwater runoff from the roof of the garage and the kitchen. After that my garden was watered only from that system.  It was an investment that I would make over again if I still lived on a large parcel of land with expansive gardens. But here our garden is tiny and our water usage much lower.

Now we pay the city for our water and besides wanting to save money, I don’t want to overuse the water we have.  If the rain barrel gets hooked up and we continue to have rain, the garden will be in good shape.  But in order keep the humans hydrated in our community we need also use other tactics to conserve this precious resource.   Using water from rinsing and washing dishes to water the garden is a good idea.  I pour  it by the bucket onto thirsty potted plants that go dry more quickly than in-ground plants.  I turn off the water while I’m brushing my teeth, and turn it back on when it’s time to rinse. Collecting water from the shower as the water heats up saves many a gallon, as does not flushing the toilet unless you absolutely have to.  At my house the motto is, If it’s yellow, let it mellow.  If it’s brown, flush it down.  I also plant drought resistant plants in the garden.  Those that can go long periods of time without a good rain or a sprinkle from my hose.  They can begin looking a bit tattered when it’s dry but always come right back when the rain starts falling.  Water is becoming a scarce and precious commodity.  In order for us to continue living as we do, we must use less of it.

*Everything is drying up in the drought, even my creativity, and I know you can’t push the river, but you can try, can’t you?  I still go to the desk every day, as if writing something, and even though nothing comes flowing in, I’ve got to keep those buckets lined up just in case.  A drought can end any time, without warning.  This spell without rain, record-breaking, heart-breaking, leads me to wonder if it ever will rain again, or if this is it … the turning-point in planetary viability, the end of lettuce as we know it. 

*The Lessons of the Well, by Linda Tatelbaum, found in the book, Writing on Water, edited by David Rothenberg and Marta Ulvaeus.

Eggplant, Dill and Basil in the raised bed.

Filed Under: Navigating Through Life, stories, The Garden

The Garden

May 14, 2011 By

This spring blogging and a whole lot of other stuff has been put on the back burner for the garden and a wee bit of travel.  Once the days warm and the landscape begins to green, the plants call to me like sirens, beckoning me to get my hands in the dirt and to prepare the way for them.  I recently read an article in an herbal magazine that said that gardening is a solitary occupation.  I find it to be just the opposite.  Plants do speak.  Not in the way you and I might converse.  There are no words in the garden, only feelings … an intuitive quality that when one stops to listen and look, gives direction as to where plants would like to placed.

It’s been a year since we moved to this new old house and the garden when we bought the place was stark.  The photo below is what it looked like in April a year ago. The former owners planted a few trees and lots of boxwood and called it done.  I saw the potential for what it could look like in my mind’s eye and had to wait for almost a year to pass before I could bring about a transformation.   I’ve been having a blast!!   For me gardening is like prayer.  It’s about the only time you’ll find me on my knees, asking some higher power to tell me where to place the plants I collect. It is very much like painting with the earth being my canvas and the plants the pigments that I use to color the canvas.

About four weeks ago I began the piece.  It started with a friend giving me some purple coneflowers that she was thinning out of her own garden.  I promptly started visiting nurseries and garden centers looking for just the right plants to accompany them.  As I walked down rows and rows of potted perennials I listened and looked, waiting for the nudge that told me that certain plants would like to come home with me.  Having waited a year to begin, I knew how and where the sun would strike the canvas and that for the small beds in the back of the house  I would need plants that could take full sun and/or part shade.  I wandered back and forth picking those that called to me.  I loaded them into the back of my Prius, never putting the back seat down to make room for more and brought them home.  I spent several hours placing them around the beds until I had a notion that this particular spot was where a certain plant would like to be.  I started with two kinds of hybrid goldenrod,  yarrow in yellow and red, placing them around the river birch.  I had an image in my mind of how it would look in the late summer and early fall,  the yellows setting off the birch in the center.  At first I didn’t plant a thing.  I went back to the nurseries 3 or 4 days in a row, each time filling the back of my car with more plants that seemed to shout out to me.  After placing the new arrivals about the garden, I started planting and began to see what was happening.  I’d move one plant over there and back again until it was just right and there seemed to be no complaining.

Plants around the River Birch include goldenrod, yarrow and a variety of herbs.

And so it happened.  I ‘ve spent the last weeks on this project with only a brief time out for a trip to New York City. I made many more trips to garden centers, chose other plants and have now called it quits to just let it be. I’m sure I’ll be called again as new plants catch my eye.  For now I’m getting vegetables into the ground with three different kinds of heirloom tomatoes … orange, red and yellow bell peppers … two different kinds of eggplant.  We’ve been eating spinach and lettuce I’ve grown.  Beets and swiss chard are on the way along with carrots.

More photos as the season progresses!

Filed Under: The Garden
« Previous Page