Tag Archives: gardening

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Because he can’t stand it when I’m right.

44 Comments

 

He really can’t.

Remember when I blogged about the husband’s new toy not fitting in our old barn/shed?

It looked something like this:

 

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I was right…

And apparently that didn’t sit well with the other half so he did a little remodeling.

 

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This is our old shed/barn that needs to be torn down.

 

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Years ago, it housed a horse.

Now?

 

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It’s a pile of rotted wood.

How rotted?

 

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Really rotted.

It’s an eyesore that drives me nuts every single day.

The fact that it’s still standing defies all logic.

 

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I’ve come to the conclusion that it hates me…

And refuses to die just because it can.

 

 

But back to the tractor.

The husband figured if he could straighten out a door…

 

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He could get it inside.

 

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Which he did, but not far enough inside due to that pesky center pole.

You know the one…

It holds up the rotted roof?

 

 

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Yeah.

We don’t need that.

 

 

Mission accomplished.

 

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He proved me wrong… and got the tractor in the shed.

How long there will be a roof over it is anyone’s guess.

 

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Nursery chuckles and organic weed control.

33 Comments

 

I’ve never met a flower I didn’t like, so I never pass a nursery without stopping in to check out the new arrivals.

The other day?

This made me laugh.

 

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Best name for manured soil…

Evah!

 

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And then there was this little succulent…

 

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Who clearly wanted a hug.

 

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When I got home that afternoon and saw all the dandelions popping up on our lawn, I lamented the fact that we don’t use chemicals for weed control.

But then I saw this out our bedroom window.

 

 

 

Bless his little Chucker heart.

He wandered around and ate every bloom he saw.

Suck on that Monsanto!

 

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I knew it!

 

 

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When I die….

30 Comments

 

My epitaph shall read:

Here lies River

She was swallowed by a quince bush.

 

 

 

This is the bush from Hell that lives and multiplies like a rabbit on our property.

 

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Every fall we wack it down to a manageable level, and every spring it comes back with a vengeance.

 

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Yes, the blooms are lovely.

 

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And yes, the bumblebees enjoy it.

 

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Pardon the bee butt shots. Apparently they’re camera shy.

 

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But damn.

It’s only June and the pink spawn of Satan is already reaching the roof line.

 

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So if I should disappear this summer?

Grab a machete and come get me….

 

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It’s already got three window exits blocked.

 

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I fear the doors are next.

 

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Because I’m a very technical gardener.

29 Comments

 

My back is breaking, but the annual planting of annuals is done.

(See what I did there? Word play. I live for that shit.)

 

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A nice combination of pink and white for the stone wall bed.

 

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There’s this pretty daisy-ish one…

 

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And the pink tinged green leafy thingies.

 

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(See what I mean by technical?

Please try to keep up with the detailed scientific plant descriptions.

There may be a quiz.)

 

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I liked this purple violet thingamabob…

 

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So I planted 3 with a couple of petunias.

 

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A few coleus for the only little plot of shade we have.

 

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It will be a miracle if I can keep the slugs off them this year.

I plant, they eat. Slimy little bastards…

Note to self – buy more salt.

 

 

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Orange lilies…

 

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Spikey purple whatchamacallit, an impatient and two soft fuzzy green mounds.

 

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I don’t think the fuzzies bloom…

 

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But they’re silky, delicate and sweet, so I don’t care.

 

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Every year the husband says he’s going to tear down our rotting shed, and every year he doesn’t, so I plant yellow and orange stuff in front of it.

Like this whozit which has both.

 

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If you can recite all the Latin names for those plants?

Bravo.

I tend to read them on the tags at the nursery and then forget them as soon as I get home.

 

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That won’t work.

I don’t know enough rappers.

 

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That’s better.

I do love me some Cleese.

 

 

 

 

 

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Boys and their (too damned big) toys.

60 Comments

 

The husband had been sputtering about one for a year, so I knew ….

 

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Naturally he had to have the biggest one they sold…

 

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And we had to rent a damned trailer to get the silly thing home.

 

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Sigh.

Did we need a lawn mower with a cut radius almost as wide as I am tall?

No.

 

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But we’ve got one now.

And contrary to popular belief…. bigger is not better when trying to fit said mower in your shed.

 

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I told him it wouldn’t fit before he bought it.

 

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I told him it wouldn’t fit after he bought it.

 

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You know where this is going, right?

 

 

It wouldn’t fit.

 

 

Yeah. Who saw that coming?

So now…

 

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His precious car is going to live outside so the even more precious new toy can have half of the garage to itself.

 

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Men and their toys.

 

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Driving women crazy since time immemorial….

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Too busy to enjoy.

17 Comments

 

Memorial Day.

 

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A time to remember and honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

The weekend dawned clear and bright, and while others were out on the lake or enjoying cookouts with friends…

We at Casa River were hard at work.

A winter that didn’t want to let go and one of the wettest springs I can remember left us with an utter nightmare of a landscape. Parts of the lawn have been a swamp for a month and impossible to mow, so this had to happen.

 

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That’s the husband.

Weed wacking the lawn.

You know how they always say the grass is greener over the septic tank?

 

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Believe it.

He was calf deep in a veritable field of thick heavy grass.

 

 

After the weed wacking came the mowing, and after the mowing…

 

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The raking of the mini hay field.

 

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People think we exaggerate when we say it takes the both of us, working all day, to do the weekly lawn maintenance.

We don’t. And it does.

But the weather cooperated for 3 days with warm sun and cool breezes and we got a lot done.

 

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I dragged the deck furniture out of the barn and finished the garden bed I had to redo….

Then hauled in another 30 bags of mulch for some others.

 

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I weeded, and mulched and reset border stones for 10 beds.

All prepped and ready for flowers.

 

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I spent the next day mowing and trimming and cutting back dead shrubs.

 

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And the day after that?

 

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I literally couldn’t move.

Everything that could hurt, did.

Neck, shoulders, arms, thighs, knees and feet.

 

 

Nothing like a long winter of inactivity to show you who’s boss.

I love our yard, but damn.

Sometimes it really kicks my ass.

 

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A modern fairy tale.

40 Comments

 

Once upon a time there was a Princess.

We shall call her….

River.

 

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(River has been called a lot of things in her day, but never a Princess.

So if you’re calling?

Make it loud.)

 

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Princess River loves her flowers. She plants them whenever and wherever she can.

And since the Princess lives in a kingdom that’s covered by snow and ice half of the year?

 

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She takes her plantings seriously.

 

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When she first moved into her castle, she toiled long and hard until she had the biggest and most beautiful garden bed in the land.

In early summer it sprouted stunning displays of Lupine….

 

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And myriads of other riotous, colorful blooms all season long.

 

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Princess River was content.

 

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This went on for many happy years until her husband, the evil Prince, started mowing in close proximity to the bed. He also mowed in the wrong direction.

Bad Prince.

Bad!

She asked him to be more careful.

She pleaded with him to go the other way.

But month after month the dastardly toad blew grass clippings in to her carefully tended flower garden.

 

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(You do.

And I shall…)

The Princess weeded, she turned the soil, she mulched….  but to no avail.

After a year or two, the grass took over.

 

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It choked all Princess River’s lovely flowers to death.

 

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Princess River was not happy.

She had to leave the castle and hump 12 bags of mulch across the moat.

 

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She had to wack down all her blooms, rake up the dead bodies, reset the brick border, lay weed block paper, re-mulch and reset the pavers that anchored the Royal Bath of Birds.

The sky darkened. The wind blew.

It started to rain.

And she ran out of mulch.

 

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(Mathematical coverage formulas were never her strong suit.)

Princess River had to abandon her project when a deluge of biblical proportion battered her royal self.

 

 

 

She will be victorious…. someday.

Until then she will slowly plot her revenge upon the evil Prince and his heinous grass cutting machines.

She will plan carefully.

The punishment must fit the crime.

 

 

 

 

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Still drinking, still knowing…

53 Comments

 

Still have to share my ridiculously useless knowledge.

 

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Did you know….

 

1.   The little dot over a lower case  i  is called a tittle.

 

(There won’t be any memes to accompany that precious nugget of information.

Google image searching for the word “tittle” led me in some very disturbing directions.)

 

2.   An octopus will eat it’s own arms if it gets hungry enough.

But Hell….

I think we’ve all been tempted to do that at one time or another, no?

 

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3.  In 1900 the third leading cause of death was diarrhea.

Aren’t you glad you started reading this blog?

 

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4.  Winnie the Pooh was based on a real life female bear named Winnie who lived in the London Zoo.

 

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5.  The first known contraceptive was crocodile dung, used by the Egyptians in 2000 BCE.

 

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I don’t know about you, but crocodile dung would definitely be enough to kill the mood for me.

 

6.  Sigmund Freud had a morbid fear of ferns.

Really?

Orchids I could understand. They’re fussy, creepy, high maintenance flowers that look like they want to bite off your finger.

But ferns?

They’re delightful..

 

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7.   Buzz Aldrin’s mother’s maiden name was Moon.

How’s that for serendipity?

 

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8.  If you live in Michigan, it is illegal to put a skunk in your boss’s desk.

Sorry Detroiters…

I’m sure that’s very disappointing news.

 

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