Tag Archives: gardening

Well, he thought he was done.

 

The baby barn.

 

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Now that we’d finished the  holy crap did it really take that long  construction and paint, it was time for me to begin the beautification process. This meant doing something with the empty flower bed and border.

The ground has always been uneven there… and when I mulched, it tended to wash downhill. So I gathered up a bunch of the old weathered bricks I love and started stacking.

While the husband was watching.

Best.

Idea.

Ever.

 

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Before I knew it?

 

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He was on his hands and knees telling me I was doing it wrong.

 

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And while I normally don’t react well to that statement… if it means someone will step in and do all the work?  I can swallow my pride.

In no time flat it was being done properly.

 

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As he gleefully pointed out how my eyeballed straight line wasn’t so straight.

 

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Look at him with his little level.

 

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Isn’t that special?

 

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I damn near burst out laughing when he started trimming the bush with a pair of scissors.

Who is this man, and what have you done with my husband?

 

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Be still my heart.

He actually dipped into his sacred pile of dirt that’s been behind the baby barn since we built the big barn years ago and…  look!

He even spread it.

 

 

I don’t mind telling you the rare sight of my husband gardening was positively orgasmic.

While he loves to mow the lawn and chop down trees…. anything resembling planting, weeding, mulching, bordering… aka gardening?

 

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It was a miraculous sight.

 

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Unfortunately it used up a lot more material than I had, so I sent out an SOS for additional bricks.

 

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Next door neighbor to the rescue.

 

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They have a lovely old farmhouse with a huge 3  (4?)  story barn.

 

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Which the husband was scoping out while I loaded bricks into the truck.

 

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She had enough to let us  (and by us, I mean him. All I did was take pictures and moan with pleasure)  finish.

 

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And I’m quite pleased with the results.

 

 

 

Another miracle.

 

Strange things are happening at Casa River this year.

First, the husband wanted to clean out the big barn  ( Okay, he didn’t really. It was just a bit of organizing… but I’m counting it.)

Second, the husband helped me make a garden bed.  ( I would have laid money on that never happening. )

And a week ago…

 

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I looked out back….

 

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And saw the husband planting a tree.

Planting! Not chopping down.

Somewhere in America, pigs are flying.

 

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Okay, he didn’t buy them.

 

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And only one of the three stands taller than my knee, but hey.

It’s still a miracle.

 

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He dug them up from the wood line and I seriously doubt he got enough roots to make them viable…. which is why I told him they were going to need lots of water for the first few weeks.

 

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Shall I give you one guess who has to drag that water to the far reaches of our property line because we only have 200 feet of hose and it won’t reach?

Yeah.

I didn’t think so.

Apparently even miracles have limits.

I needed a holiday from the holiday.

 

Our last day of the long Memorial Day weekend meant a morning of yard work.

 

 

Tag team mowing with the husband on his new toy and me slogging along with the old push mower.

It was a gorgeous day.

 

 

The pear tree was blooming.

 

 

The mallows I’d planted were thriving.

 

 

And everything had finally turned green.

 

 

Except the baby barn which I decided to start painting that afternoon.

Let me preface this by saying I used to love to paint.

I used to.

Until I had to use an artist’s tiny brush around all the nooks, corners, flashing and crooked angles on that beast.

 

 

 

Did I wear some paint, get covered in dirt, rip my pants, tumble off a ladder and work until almost 8:00 at night?

Yes I did.

 

 

But paint was applied.

 

 

And covered a multitude of sins.

 

 

Three sides done, one to go!

Because big barn needs a little time in the spotlight now and then.

 

 

 

Since the baby barn has been hogging all the attention lately, let me reintroduce you to my favorite spot to spend late afternoons.

 

 

Comfortable furniture, blooming pretties, a good book and a cocktail.

Lowers my blood pressure just thinking about it.

 

 

I planted this garden bed two weeks ago, took a picture and realized there’s a hole.

Damn… another trip to the nursery will be necessary.

How awful.

😈

 

 

Big barn dwarfs baby barn.

 

 

And it’s where you can find me most evenings in the summer, surveying my domain.

 

 

Cheers!

Worst. Gift. Ever.

 

Have you ever given someone a gift and had cause to regret it?

I’ve lived with regret for the past few years and felt the old twinge again yesterday.

 

 

At first I looked outside and thought how nice…

 

 

The husband is trimming a tree.

 

 

And then I saw the gift I’ve lived to regret.

 

 

He wasn’t trimming branches off the tree, he was cutting it down.

 

 

Why?

 

 

I don’t know.

Because it was there… and he could, because I’d given him a chain saw as a birthday gift.

 

 

Whatever the reason, it’s gone.

 

 

Or at least part of it.

 

 

And if he thinks he’s leaving this abomination on our lawn he’s sorely mistaken.

Chain saws.

Worst. Gifts. Ever!!

It was one of those days when you just want to freeze time.

 

The weather was perfect.

 

 

75 degrees with bright sunshine and a gentle breeze.

 

 

We’d spent the day mowing and trimming and weeding….

 

 

And everything looked perfect.

 

 

Lilacs were cut for vases and perfumed the air with the scent of a long awaited spring.

 

 

And we ended the day with adult beverages on the big barn porch…. where the only thing to worry about was walking back inside for refills.

Life is good.

Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?

 

On a late afternoon trip to Home Depot for baby barn supplies….and okay, maybe a plant or two…. we were desperately hungry and hit the McDonalds drive thru.

If you know how much we hate McDonalds, you’ll know how desperately hungry we were.

 

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Geranium perched between my legs, we scarfed down the  (is this supposed to be edible?)  food.

And while we were doing that?

 

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They gathered.

 

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One  by one, on both sides… as well as in the front and the back.

Not wanting to re-create a Tippi Hendren phone booth scene, we ate quickly and fled.

So… this happened.

 

 

The husband mowing the grass over the septic tank?

Not blog worthy.

But the husband mowing the grass over the septic tank with one arm because he’s done some kind of damage to his left shoulder and the appendage is hanging uselessly?

 

 

Relatively blog worthy.

It took me a week of him alternating ice packs and heating pads. A week of him moaning, groaning and being perfectly miserable before I could get him to the doctors for an exam and an X-ray.

Thankfully nothing was broken or dislocated. They said it might be muscle trauma, might be a pinched nerve. In other words they have no idea.

A weeks worth of Prednisone has helped a bit, but just when we were making baby barn headway….

 

 

It seems we’ll be looking at this a while longer.

I’m seriously beginning to think that building is cursed.