The thing with being a homeowner is that it changes your priorities in life.
Just over two years ago, I moved into my house. I’d lived in apartments before and was ready to have something that was actually mine. It has been a joy having the freedom to do what I want whether it be painting, ripping up a floor and replacing it as well as having a garden fit for dogs and for growing vegetables.
It’s just that this has now become my life. I’m not complaining, trust me. I rather love my life. When I lived in an apartment, it was much easier to find time to go to my parents’ for the weekend or take off and fly to L.A. to visit. Nowadays, it’s not that easy because there’s always something to do at home.
I don’t mind. I’ve actually got to the point where I like mowing. If you read back over the blogs I wrote when I first moved into the house and had to start mowing, you’ll see this is quite a departure. I find it slightly peculiar that I now take a weird sort of pride in making sure my lawn looks tidy and looked after. I like to drive home and see my tidy lawn and how it contrasts with Mr. Enormous Trouser’s unkempt one. I find it therapeutic to pull out the mower and cut the lawn.
I especially like the feeling I have after the grass is cut and I can sit on my patio, drinking a beer and admiring how nice it looks while the pups roll in the clippings. Why the like to roll in the clippings, I do not know. When the grass is dry, it’s not so bad. When it’s wet, it makes a mess. It’s most annoying when I give the girls a bath and they immediately run outside and roll in the grass clippings.
If it’s not mowing, it’s laundry. I have to admit, after years of having to pump quarters into machines, including the college years, I’m still thankful that I have my own washer and dryer and that if I forget my clothes in the washer, there’s no one to dump them out on the floor. Since the pups are afraid of the laundry area due to the fact that I accidentally knocked a laundry basket on the floor, narrowly missing them, I highly doubt they’re likely to dump my clothes out. Also, they have no thumbs. This would make it difficult.
There’s also the small things such as remembering on Wednesdays that Rumpke come the next day so I should have my rubbish out by the curb. This is actually pretty easy to remember because my neighbours remind me by putting out their own rubbish. Also, confession time, the pups and I enjoy our Wednesday evening walks because we’re nosy and it’s quite fun to see the boxes and things by the curb and know who bought a new TV, who has a new baby and who got a new puppy. Yes, we’re nosy. I prefer to think of it as “studying humans” in order to be a more effective writer. Ok, fine…it is nosy and probably a little weird but I think I get it from my grandmother.
It’s nice to have the freedom to decide that I want to have DirecTV without having to find out from a landlord whether I’m allowed a dish or not. It’s nice to have dogs without having to pay a deposit for them. It’s nice to decide that I’m fed up with the window coverings and I can change them without having to worry about storing the old ones to put back up when I move out.
Of course, the flip side to having all this freedom is when you have a period of time where you have termites, your dryer dies and your fridge dies in the same week, it’s expensive. When the air conditioning goes out, it’s my responsibility to get it fixed. I have to be the one who’s there to let repairmen into my house because it’s my responsibility.
It’s an up and down journey that has become my life. I’ve somehow transitioned from someone who will splurge on a pair of Vans shoes to someone who’d rather buy a new side table for my Tuscan room. I price the cost of a new bathroom when I go in Home Depot. I get excited by the Lowes advertisement to see what’s on special.
You get it. I just did. It wasn’t until I was sitting at work thinking of all the things I had to do this evening when I realized that they’re things I have to do because I own my house. I don’t mind one little bit but it occurred to me that my life has become rather quiet and peaceful throughout the years. I don’t go out as much after work because I’d rather come home to the dogs, kick of my shoes and curl up with a good book in the sanctity of my Tuscan room.
I don’t know if this makes me boring or not. It probably does. Yet there’s a strange peace in finding a life where being able to own my own grill and use it is a little bit of a delight and where I can sit out on my patio, surrounded by sunflowers and herbs that I planted and know that this little corner of the world is all mine.
Whether it’s exciting or not is irrelevant. It is exciting to me, even in the quietness of the life I have. I think that’s what really matters. And I think the dogs would agree.
Happy Thursday!
Showing posts with label lawn mowing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lawn mowing. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The Rain Mower
I know I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I live in a nice neighbourhood but I have some odd neighbours.
Sometimes, I feel as though I’m acting like my grandmother because I like to stand at the window and watch what the neighbours are doing. It’s an inherited trait. My mother does it too. Whenever there’s any excitement or, even, something ‘different’ going on, we all go to the window and have a peer out to see what’s going on.
This morning, for example, I noticed the lady across the road was rearranging her rubbish bins. She was taking bags out of one dustbin and putting them in another. This may not seem too odd but she was doing it while the trash collectors were literally waiting to take them from her to empty. I couldn’t figure out why she was doing this. At first I thought she’d dropped something that she didn’t want to get thrown out with the trash but from my perspective, it simply looked like she was playing “Rearrange the Trash Bags.” What was even more strange is that in the end, the Rumpke dustman took both cans and emptied them into the back of the garbage truck which null and voided her rearranging.
I don’t know that lady very well. When I first moved in, she left me a note saying how she’d been friends with the old lady who sold me my house and that she’d love to meet me. We did finally meet when she came over and made a point of telling me how half the plants in my garden had been transplanted from hers. She was nice but aside from her taking me to her church once, she’s pretty much avoided me ever since. I think this may have to do with the fact that I came home one day shortly after the church outing and discovered a neighbour had kindly unlocked my front door to put a package from UPS inside for me. Since I don’t like the idea of strangers having a key to my house, I changed the lock. I think it was Trash Rearranging Lady. I probably offended her. I’m not terribly upset about it, honestly.
The other odd occurrence last night was Dog Whisperer. He truly baffled me.
You see, when I got home from work last night, I decided to take advantage of the fact it wasn’t raining in order to cut my lawn. Lately, it’s been raining a lot and my lawn had become very unruly. I managed to get my lawn mowed just as thunder began to rumble in the sky.
Just as I finished mowing and was pushing my lawnmower back into the shed, I heard a lawnmower start up next door. Dog Whisperer was mowing his front lawn.
Since it was clearly going to rain, I thought that it might have been wiser to wait but, well, sometimes, I guess the urge to mow the lawn is strong. I did have a rather silly minor moment of guilt in wondering if, in my efforts to make my front lawn look nice, I’d made his lawn look even longer and ugly and so he had to go even it up in order to make it match the cut of my grass. We do have a shared strip that runs between our houses. I cut one side, he cuts the other. It makes it pretty obvious when one lawn has been mowed and the other hasn’t.
Of course, I realized my guilt was rather silly since it wouldn’t be the first time our lawns didn’t match and, really, I’m quite sure it had nothing to do with his sudden urgency to mow.
I left him to it and decided to attempt to grill the steak for my tacos quickly before the rain started to come down. By this time, Dog Whisperer had moved to his back yard. I had just pulled the steak off the grill and was trying to lightly grill the tortillas before it started to pour. Quickly, I shut the grill off, sheltered my food and went inside.
Dog Whisperer continued to mow. As I sat down to eat my dinner, the rain started to really come down. And yet, I could still hear the thrum of the lawnmower in Dog Whisperer’s yard. He was determined to mow, no matter what.
As I continued to eat, the rain got harder. It was that really, really heavy type of rain that actually bounces up again after it hits the pavement because of the force at which it is hitting. It’s the type of rain that stings and soaks you in less than 10 seconds.
And yet….the mowing continued. I got up to make sure Dog Whisperer hadn’t had a horrible mowing accident in which he slipped on the wet grass and managed to mow himself in half. I realize that this is an impossibility because you need to be holding the bar thing on the handle to keep the mower going and as soon as you release it, the mower dies. However, I have a dark imagination and I was concerned anyway.
Nope. He was still upright and mowing. He was soaked to the skin. He was hunched over. The rain was coming down so hard it couldn’t have been easy to see and yet….he didn’t give up.
I did worry a little about his mower. I know they’re waterproof to some degree but when it’s raining that hard, surely the water can’t be good for it. Also, wet grass is hard to cut because it clings and the suction of the mulching function causes the grass to clog up. In addition, it was lightning. Mowing the grass in a thunderstorm didn’t strike me as…sensible, per se. Finally, wet grass is slippery and I was a wee bit concerned that he might slip and accidentally cut off his foot. Hey, that one could actually happen.
Wet grass or no, he kept going.
I should commend his determination. I mean, he’s not a quitter. It’s just that…well….truth be told, it seemed a little daft. I couldn’t figure out why he was still going. I understand wanting to finish something up but if it had been me, I would have stopped the mower and waited out the rain.
Well, actually, if it had been me, I wouldn’t have started mowing after it was clearly starting to storm. When I did mow my lawn, the clouds were starting to roll in but it was clear that I had enough time.
Yet even though the rain came down with solid force and the world was soaking wet, Dog Whisperer was the Little Mower that Could. He didn’t give up. He kept mowing. When he wheeled his mower into the shed, he was so wet, I knew he was squelching. He’d abandoned his white t-shirt mid-mow and was mowing bare chested. If it had been ridiculously hot and he wanted to cool down, it might have made sense but, alas, it was actually quite chilly with the rain.
Still, he got his lawn mown and I guess that was important to him. I did notice today that his diagonal lines weren’t quite as straight as usual and were even a little wavery in patches but I suppose when the rain is coming down so hard that you can’t see, that’s bound to happen.
I admit, I probably shouldn’t have been quite so nosy but I was both fascinated and surprised at his dedication to his mowing. I’m quite glad he didn’t get struck by lightning. I’m also glad he didn’t mow over his foot. I am, however, quite baffled about his lawn mowing obsession. Perhaps all will reveal itself in time. Maybe he’s having a garden party directly after work tonight and it was the only mowing time he had. Of course, after the rain stopped last night probably would have been smarter, but what do I know?
Ah well, I’m sure he has his reasons and I’m sure I’ll never learn them. I suppose I could ask but, well, that might reveal me to be a nosy neighbour. It’s one thing to be a nosy neighbour and another thing to have people know you’re one.
And I’d rather do my lurking in secret. You learn more about your neighbours that way. Or, at least, you can watch them do some odd things.
Happy Friday!
Sometimes, I feel as though I’m acting like my grandmother because I like to stand at the window and watch what the neighbours are doing. It’s an inherited trait. My mother does it too. Whenever there’s any excitement or, even, something ‘different’ going on, we all go to the window and have a peer out to see what’s going on.
This morning, for example, I noticed the lady across the road was rearranging her rubbish bins. She was taking bags out of one dustbin and putting them in another. This may not seem too odd but she was doing it while the trash collectors were literally waiting to take them from her to empty. I couldn’t figure out why she was doing this. At first I thought she’d dropped something that she didn’t want to get thrown out with the trash but from my perspective, it simply looked like she was playing “Rearrange the Trash Bags.” What was even more strange is that in the end, the Rumpke dustman took both cans and emptied them into the back of the garbage truck which null and voided her rearranging.
I don’t know that lady very well. When I first moved in, she left me a note saying how she’d been friends with the old lady who sold me my house and that she’d love to meet me. We did finally meet when she came over and made a point of telling me how half the plants in my garden had been transplanted from hers. She was nice but aside from her taking me to her church once, she’s pretty much avoided me ever since. I think this may have to do with the fact that I came home one day shortly after the church outing and discovered a neighbour had kindly unlocked my front door to put a package from UPS inside for me. Since I don’t like the idea of strangers having a key to my house, I changed the lock. I think it was Trash Rearranging Lady. I probably offended her. I’m not terribly upset about it, honestly.
The other odd occurrence last night was Dog Whisperer. He truly baffled me.
You see, when I got home from work last night, I decided to take advantage of the fact it wasn’t raining in order to cut my lawn. Lately, it’s been raining a lot and my lawn had become very unruly. I managed to get my lawn mowed just as thunder began to rumble in the sky.
Just as I finished mowing and was pushing my lawnmower back into the shed, I heard a lawnmower start up next door. Dog Whisperer was mowing his front lawn.
Since it was clearly going to rain, I thought that it might have been wiser to wait but, well, sometimes, I guess the urge to mow the lawn is strong. I did have a rather silly minor moment of guilt in wondering if, in my efforts to make my front lawn look nice, I’d made his lawn look even longer and ugly and so he had to go even it up in order to make it match the cut of my grass. We do have a shared strip that runs between our houses. I cut one side, he cuts the other. It makes it pretty obvious when one lawn has been mowed and the other hasn’t.
Of course, I realized my guilt was rather silly since it wouldn’t be the first time our lawns didn’t match and, really, I’m quite sure it had nothing to do with his sudden urgency to mow.
I left him to it and decided to attempt to grill the steak for my tacos quickly before the rain started to come down. By this time, Dog Whisperer had moved to his back yard. I had just pulled the steak off the grill and was trying to lightly grill the tortillas before it started to pour. Quickly, I shut the grill off, sheltered my food and went inside.
Dog Whisperer continued to mow. As I sat down to eat my dinner, the rain started to really come down. And yet, I could still hear the thrum of the lawnmower in Dog Whisperer’s yard. He was determined to mow, no matter what.
As I continued to eat, the rain got harder. It was that really, really heavy type of rain that actually bounces up again after it hits the pavement because of the force at which it is hitting. It’s the type of rain that stings and soaks you in less than 10 seconds.
And yet….the mowing continued. I got up to make sure Dog Whisperer hadn’t had a horrible mowing accident in which he slipped on the wet grass and managed to mow himself in half. I realize that this is an impossibility because you need to be holding the bar thing on the handle to keep the mower going and as soon as you release it, the mower dies. However, I have a dark imagination and I was concerned anyway.
Nope. He was still upright and mowing. He was soaked to the skin. He was hunched over. The rain was coming down so hard it couldn’t have been easy to see and yet….he didn’t give up.
I did worry a little about his mower. I know they’re waterproof to some degree but when it’s raining that hard, surely the water can’t be good for it. Also, wet grass is hard to cut because it clings and the suction of the mulching function causes the grass to clog up. In addition, it was lightning. Mowing the grass in a thunderstorm didn’t strike me as…sensible, per se. Finally, wet grass is slippery and I was a wee bit concerned that he might slip and accidentally cut off his foot. Hey, that one could actually happen.
Wet grass or no, he kept going.
I should commend his determination. I mean, he’s not a quitter. It’s just that…well….truth be told, it seemed a little daft. I couldn’t figure out why he was still going. I understand wanting to finish something up but if it had been me, I would have stopped the mower and waited out the rain.
Well, actually, if it had been me, I wouldn’t have started mowing after it was clearly starting to storm. When I did mow my lawn, the clouds were starting to roll in but it was clear that I had enough time.
Yet even though the rain came down with solid force and the world was soaking wet, Dog Whisperer was the Little Mower that Could. He didn’t give up. He kept mowing. When he wheeled his mower into the shed, he was so wet, I knew he was squelching. He’d abandoned his white t-shirt mid-mow and was mowing bare chested. If it had been ridiculously hot and he wanted to cool down, it might have made sense but, alas, it was actually quite chilly with the rain.
Still, he got his lawn mown and I guess that was important to him. I did notice today that his diagonal lines weren’t quite as straight as usual and were even a little wavery in patches but I suppose when the rain is coming down so hard that you can’t see, that’s bound to happen.
I admit, I probably shouldn’t have been quite so nosy but I was both fascinated and surprised at his dedication to his mowing. I’m quite glad he didn’t get struck by lightning. I’m also glad he didn’t mow over his foot. I am, however, quite baffled about his lawn mowing obsession. Perhaps all will reveal itself in time. Maybe he’s having a garden party directly after work tonight and it was the only mowing time he had. Of course, after the rain stopped last night probably would have been smarter, but what do I know?
Ah well, I’m sure he has his reasons and I’m sure I’ll never learn them. I suppose I could ask but, well, that might reveal me to be a nosy neighbour. It’s one thing to be a nosy neighbour and another thing to have people know you’re one.
And I’d rather do my lurking in secret. You learn more about your neighbours that way. Or, at least, you can watch them do some odd things.
Happy Friday!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Perfectly Ending Weekends...
There's little more satisfying than sitting outside on a beautiful Sunday evening with a glass of sauvignon blanc and a feeling of accomplishment.
At long last, the weather has turned into the beautiful spring days expected of early June. The humidity is gone, the breeze is cool and the temperature is reading 78 degrees.
I can't argue with that. This is the weather I've been craving and now it's here, I took full advantage of it.
We did have a hot and humid day yesterday. I decided to forge ahead and lay down the vinyl tiles on the floor. It was hot work but with the help of some upbeat music such as Guns n' Roses, Bon Jovi and, of course, Green Day, coupled with some Frank Sinatra, it wasn't too bad. Of course, Sookie and Rory were of no help at all. For some reason, they decided their job was to lie and doze in the exact spot that I was intending to tile. Also, they decided it was their job to show me that they loved me by trying to climb in my lap. This was appreciated except my fingers were always a little gluey from the sticky tiles and dachshund hair is not fun to have to scrub off with the glue.
Still, I got the job done. The only minor mishap was that during a particularly enthusiastic moment with my Fat Max knife (it's real name!) in which I was cutting a tile to size, I accidentally sliced off the top of my finger. Fortunately, my nail was long and that prevented too much damage but as it stands, I now have a bit of a flat finger and rather a deep cut which went several layers deep. There was quite a lot of blood too. I'm not particularly squeamish but it was not the prettiest thing. Since I originally thought I'd actually sliced my finger off, I was, however, relieved it wasn't that dire.
By the time the room was done, so was Saturday, for the most part. I was pleased with my handiwork. Even though it's not perfect and completely flawless, I love the way the new tile looks and, even better, I did it myself.
Today, I bought some rugs for the room. I bought a 5' x 8' rug and two 2' x 3' rugs for $50. I have a great store nearby for stuff like that called Old Tyme Pottery. It's also fantastic for dinnerware. If ever I'm cooking something fancy and don't have the right plates, that's where I go.
So, with the addition of the rugs, at long last, I can say my Tuscan room is complete. The last touches will be two pieces of unfinished furniture that I want to get and stain myself in a rustic green colour. I need a chest of drawers to hide some of the 'contempory' stuff that I want to store in the room and not display such as my Playstation 2 and I'd like a free standing cupboard for all of my kitchen applicances that don't quite fit in my kitchen cupboards.
Still, even without the furniture, it's a pleasure to sit in that room now. Before I redid it, the room had 1970's dark panelled walls, orange-green shag carpet and rather frumpy flowered curtains that were lovingly made by the former owner of the house but just not my taste. Now, the panellng is a sunny yellow, the floor is mock-teracotta vinyl tiles and the curtains are simple white muslin tied backed with red raffia. I like the final effect. On each wall is a variation on a picture of Tuscany with poppies in the forefront. I love poppies. Poppies are one of those flowers that just make me smile when I see them.
Even though I woke up today stiff and sore from my tiling, I still had an odd need to be productive. Some weekends are like that- I just want to get things done. Thus, I spent the day doing the following:
1) Buying rugs
2) Exchanging the propane tank for my grill. I've become a huge fan of grilling lately. It's quick, easy and the result is pretty darn yummy.
3) Grocery shopping at Jungle Jim's/shopping for my dad's Father's Day present. I'm making him lunch as part of his gift but it isn't as complex as the five-course meal I made for Mother's Day so I got him a bottle of Santa Margherita Chianti to try. He loves the Pinot Grigio and he's a fan of Chianti so it seemed like a smart choice.
4) Mowing the lawn.
5) Weeding the front garden.
6) Making a yummy Fourme d'Ambert baguette sandwich for lunch. Fourme d'Ambert is my current favourite cheese- it's a blue, creamy cheese from France and it's heavenly. I've decided my next culinary challenge is to learn about cheeses. (side note: I need a good book about cheese- any recommendations?)
7) Planting my vegetable garden- I planted peppers, heirloom tomatoes, squash and cucumbers.
8) Cleaning my patio, finally putting my outdoor rug down and setting out the furniture.
9) Cleaning my house- mopping, vacuuming, dusting and bathroom scrubbing.
10) Walking the pups.
11) Sitting outside with a glass of wine and being happy that I've had a productive weekend.
Obviously, the last one is where I am now. I'm smelling both the scent of fresh-cut grass coupled with Pine Sol. It's a good smell. I find that some weekends are best for relaxing but others, like this one, are best spent getting things done. I have to say, I like being productive. It's a wonderful feeling.
Even though it's back to work tomorrow, I can live with that because even though the weekend is waning away, it's waning away as I continue to sit outside, with my laptop, a glass of wine and a dachshund on my lap. It's another one of those moments that's as close to perfect as life gets.
And you just can't beat that, even when a Monday is looming.
Happy Monday!
At long last, the weather has turned into the beautiful spring days expected of early June. The humidity is gone, the breeze is cool and the temperature is reading 78 degrees.
I can't argue with that. This is the weather I've been craving and now it's here, I took full advantage of it.
We did have a hot and humid day yesterday. I decided to forge ahead and lay down the vinyl tiles on the floor. It was hot work but with the help of some upbeat music such as Guns n' Roses, Bon Jovi and, of course, Green Day, coupled with some Frank Sinatra, it wasn't too bad. Of course, Sookie and Rory were of no help at all. For some reason, they decided their job was to lie and doze in the exact spot that I was intending to tile. Also, they decided it was their job to show me that they loved me by trying to climb in my lap. This was appreciated except my fingers were always a little gluey from the sticky tiles and dachshund hair is not fun to have to scrub off with the glue.
Still, I got the job done. The only minor mishap was that during a particularly enthusiastic moment with my Fat Max knife (it's real name!) in which I was cutting a tile to size, I accidentally sliced off the top of my finger. Fortunately, my nail was long and that prevented too much damage but as it stands, I now have a bit of a flat finger and rather a deep cut which went several layers deep. There was quite a lot of blood too. I'm not particularly squeamish but it was not the prettiest thing. Since I originally thought I'd actually sliced my finger off, I was, however, relieved it wasn't that dire.
By the time the room was done, so was Saturday, for the most part. I was pleased with my handiwork. Even though it's not perfect and completely flawless, I love the way the new tile looks and, even better, I did it myself.
Today, I bought some rugs for the room. I bought a 5' x 8' rug and two 2' x 3' rugs for $50. I have a great store nearby for stuff like that called Old Tyme Pottery. It's also fantastic for dinnerware. If ever I'm cooking something fancy and don't have the right plates, that's where I go.
So, with the addition of the rugs, at long last, I can say my Tuscan room is complete. The last touches will be two pieces of unfinished furniture that I want to get and stain myself in a rustic green colour. I need a chest of drawers to hide some of the 'contempory' stuff that I want to store in the room and not display such as my Playstation 2 and I'd like a free standing cupboard for all of my kitchen applicances that don't quite fit in my kitchen cupboards.
Still, even without the furniture, it's a pleasure to sit in that room now. Before I redid it, the room had 1970's dark panelled walls, orange-green shag carpet and rather frumpy flowered curtains that were lovingly made by the former owner of the house but just not my taste. Now, the panellng is a sunny yellow, the floor is mock-teracotta vinyl tiles and the curtains are simple white muslin tied backed with red raffia. I like the final effect. On each wall is a variation on a picture of Tuscany with poppies in the forefront. I love poppies. Poppies are one of those flowers that just make me smile when I see them.
Even though I woke up today stiff and sore from my tiling, I still had an odd need to be productive. Some weekends are like that- I just want to get things done. Thus, I spent the day doing the following:
1) Buying rugs
2) Exchanging the propane tank for my grill. I've become a huge fan of grilling lately. It's quick, easy and the result is pretty darn yummy.
3) Grocery shopping at Jungle Jim's/shopping for my dad's Father's Day present. I'm making him lunch as part of his gift but it isn't as complex as the five-course meal I made for Mother's Day so I got him a bottle of Santa Margherita Chianti to try. He loves the Pinot Grigio and he's a fan of Chianti so it seemed like a smart choice.
4) Mowing the lawn.
5) Weeding the front garden.
6) Making a yummy Fourme d'Ambert baguette sandwich for lunch. Fourme d'Ambert is my current favourite cheese- it's a blue, creamy cheese from France and it's heavenly. I've decided my next culinary challenge is to learn about cheeses. (side note: I need a good book about cheese- any recommendations?)
7) Planting my vegetable garden- I planted peppers, heirloom tomatoes, squash and cucumbers.
8) Cleaning my patio, finally putting my outdoor rug down and setting out the furniture.
9) Cleaning my house- mopping, vacuuming, dusting and bathroom scrubbing.
10) Walking the pups.
11) Sitting outside with a glass of wine and being happy that I've had a productive weekend.
Obviously, the last one is where I am now. I'm smelling both the scent of fresh-cut grass coupled with Pine Sol. It's a good smell. I find that some weekends are best for relaxing but others, like this one, are best spent getting things done. I have to say, I like being productive. It's a wonderful feeling.
Even though it's back to work tomorrow, I can live with that because even though the weekend is waning away, it's waning away as I continue to sit outside, with my laptop, a glass of wine and a dachshund on my lap. It's another one of those moments that's as close to perfect as life gets.
And you just can't beat that, even when a Monday is looming.
Happy Monday!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Hot Spring Days
We seem to be having a heatwave. We’ve officially had 90 degree temperatures for a couple of days now and we’re supposed to get up near 100 degrees on Wednesday.
I’m not enjoying the heatwave. While it’s normal in July and August, it’s just plain bizarre in June. June is supposed to be a transition month- the gentle balmy spring gives way to the more aggressive temperatures of the summer. June is NOT supposed to be summer. Not yet.
It’s odd, really. In April and May, we had near-record rainfall. We haven’t had rain in quite some time. Well, that’s unless you count the odd shower we had on Saturday when I’d just put my nice furniture outside so I could work on the floor project. The sun was shining, the skies were blue and then…it rained. It was most bizarre. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t put the furniture outside, it wouldn’t have rained. It’s that whole Murphy’s law thing.
So, it’s really dry at the moment and hot. It’s also quite humid. It makes it hard to be outside for any real length of time. I try to still walk the dogs every night but I have to plan our route carefully. Rory lays down in complete protest whenever she’s hot and tired. It’s a little embarrassing when I’m walking and then, suddenly, I have a dog laying horizontally on the ground, refusing to move. I almost carried her yesterday but then I realized that it would be a little ridiculous to carry a dog when we were on a walk.
The neighbourhood seems to be suffering the heat too. There are less people out and about and more people sitting in lawn chairs. My neighbourhood seems to be very big on putting chairs on the front stoop and watching the rest of the neighbourhood. I feel as though I’m doing something wrong by sitting on my back patio in private when every other house has someone sitting outside.
The lawns are also suffering a little. Two weeks ago, there seemed to be an unspoken contest to see who could keep their lawn the shortest and tidiest. I didn’t compete. At best, my lawn looks ok but I can’t be bothered to try for those diagonal lines that seem to be in fad. Also, there seems to be a certain height of grass that the Meticulous Mowers aspire to achieve whereas my mower seems to mow on short, shorter or very short.
Now, the lawns are being left a little longer because mowing is a bit more of a challenge in this heat. In my case, I have to mow tonight because the grass is getting long and it’s inconvenient for my low-lying dachshunds as they run their normal path. I find it interesting that dogs have a regular path, by the way. My girls have a very set pattern when they get outside. The grass has a track built into it from their constant runs in this pattern. My parents’ dogs are the same way.
In this heat, the girls start out running but within moments, they become more sluggish, their tongues start lolling out of their mouths and they only give it a short time before they run inside to the cooler air conditioned shelter. Sookie will splay out on the kitchen floor which is cooler than the carpet. Rory will gorge on water and come away from the bowl still slurping so that the floor gets rather wet and drippy. Then she’ll inevitably come and try to lick me which is rather a wet experience.
Still, I’m trying not to let the heat deter me from doing stuff outside even though it’s hotter than it should be. I did plant some flowers yesterday. I need to plant some vegetables too althoughmy seedling harvest this year is pathetic. For every pack of seeds I planted, I think I got maybe 5 plants at most. I’m not sure why. I’m hoping for some zucchini, at least. I can get tomatoes and peppers from elsewhere.
It’s just that when I do garden, I come inside all sweaty and crotchety. Even when I’m working inside, that happens. My un-tiling project this weekend was in the one room of my house that wasn’t air conditioned. As a result, I’m quite glad I didn’t have anyone around to snap at and bark at- I wasn’t very pleasant. Unfortunately, during one of my waspish periods where I was very hot and rather sick of scraping tiles, Son of Dog Whisperer and his little friend rang my doorbell. They wanted me to buy a bottle of warm water for $1. They had their lemonade stand again and were trying to solicit from me. Normally, I might have been more polite but given their behavior last time combined with my rather crotchety frame of mind, I firmly told them I was too busy to mess around and they needed to not ring my doorbell again. They wanted to know what I was doing and when I told them I was redoing the floor, they started asking questions. I was a little rude, I know but I closed the door and said, “not today, sorry but I have to get back to work.”
I feel a little bad because I know I was quite mean to them but, honestly, if I didn’t tell them straight, they’d probably have started begging for money again and I was not about to indulge them. There’s a line between being cutely enterprising and being downright obnoxious and they far crossed the line last time.
Besides, it was hot and I was grouchy.
I’m trying not to become too grouchy on a regular basis even though it’s hot. I find that it doesn’t do to stay out too long in the heat. Regular air conditioning breaks are a good way to make it tolerable. Besides, this is only the start of the Dog Days of Summer and I better get used to it.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Spring will back for a little while and we’ll get our 75 degree days with a light breeze.
I’ll keep hoping as the thermometer begins to climb. It doesn’t hurt to hope…right?
Happy Tuesday!
I’m not enjoying the heatwave. While it’s normal in July and August, it’s just plain bizarre in June. June is supposed to be a transition month- the gentle balmy spring gives way to the more aggressive temperatures of the summer. June is NOT supposed to be summer. Not yet.
It’s odd, really. In April and May, we had near-record rainfall. We haven’t had rain in quite some time. Well, that’s unless you count the odd shower we had on Saturday when I’d just put my nice furniture outside so I could work on the floor project. The sun was shining, the skies were blue and then…it rained. It was most bizarre. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t put the furniture outside, it wouldn’t have rained. It’s that whole Murphy’s law thing.
So, it’s really dry at the moment and hot. It’s also quite humid. It makes it hard to be outside for any real length of time. I try to still walk the dogs every night but I have to plan our route carefully. Rory lays down in complete protest whenever she’s hot and tired. It’s a little embarrassing when I’m walking and then, suddenly, I have a dog laying horizontally on the ground, refusing to move. I almost carried her yesterday but then I realized that it would be a little ridiculous to carry a dog when we were on a walk.
The neighbourhood seems to be suffering the heat too. There are less people out and about and more people sitting in lawn chairs. My neighbourhood seems to be very big on putting chairs on the front stoop and watching the rest of the neighbourhood. I feel as though I’m doing something wrong by sitting on my back patio in private when every other house has someone sitting outside.
The lawns are also suffering a little. Two weeks ago, there seemed to be an unspoken contest to see who could keep their lawn the shortest and tidiest. I didn’t compete. At best, my lawn looks ok but I can’t be bothered to try for those diagonal lines that seem to be in fad. Also, there seems to be a certain height of grass that the Meticulous Mowers aspire to achieve whereas my mower seems to mow on short, shorter or very short.
Now, the lawns are being left a little longer because mowing is a bit more of a challenge in this heat. In my case, I have to mow tonight because the grass is getting long and it’s inconvenient for my low-lying dachshunds as they run their normal path. I find it interesting that dogs have a regular path, by the way. My girls have a very set pattern when they get outside. The grass has a track built into it from their constant runs in this pattern. My parents’ dogs are the same way.
In this heat, the girls start out running but within moments, they become more sluggish, their tongues start lolling out of their mouths and they only give it a short time before they run inside to the cooler air conditioned shelter. Sookie will splay out on the kitchen floor which is cooler than the carpet. Rory will gorge on water and come away from the bowl still slurping so that the floor gets rather wet and drippy. Then she’ll inevitably come and try to lick me which is rather a wet experience.
Still, I’m trying not to let the heat deter me from doing stuff outside even though it’s hotter than it should be. I did plant some flowers yesterday. I need to plant some vegetables too althoughmy seedling harvest this year is pathetic. For every pack of seeds I planted, I think I got maybe 5 plants at most. I’m not sure why. I’m hoping for some zucchini, at least. I can get tomatoes and peppers from elsewhere.
It’s just that when I do garden, I come inside all sweaty and crotchety. Even when I’m working inside, that happens. My un-tiling project this weekend was in the one room of my house that wasn’t air conditioned. As a result, I’m quite glad I didn’t have anyone around to snap at and bark at- I wasn’t very pleasant. Unfortunately, during one of my waspish periods where I was very hot and rather sick of scraping tiles, Son of Dog Whisperer and his little friend rang my doorbell. They wanted me to buy a bottle of warm water for $1. They had their lemonade stand again and were trying to solicit from me. Normally, I might have been more polite but given their behavior last time combined with my rather crotchety frame of mind, I firmly told them I was too busy to mess around and they needed to not ring my doorbell again. They wanted to know what I was doing and when I told them I was redoing the floor, they started asking questions. I was a little rude, I know but I closed the door and said, “not today, sorry but I have to get back to work.”
I feel a little bad because I know I was quite mean to them but, honestly, if I didn’t tell them straight, they’d probably have started begging for money again and I was not about to indulge them. There’s a line between being cutely enterprising and being downright obnoxious and they far crossed the line last time.
Besides, it was hot and I was grouchy.
I’m trying not to become too grouchy on a regular basis even though it’s hot. I find that it doesn’t do to stay out too long in the heat. Regular air conditioning breaks are a good way to make it tolerable. Besides, this is only the start of the Dog Days of Summer and I better get used to it.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Spring will back for a little while and we’ll get our 75 degree days with a light breeze.
I’ll keep hoping as the thermometer begins to climb. It doesn’t hurt to hope…right?
Happy Tuesday!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
You Can Tell a Lot by a Lawn...
The thing with taking the dogs for a walk every night unless it’s raining is that I tend to notice the subtle changes in my neighbourhood.
We’ve been walking fairly regularly since the end of February. We’ve watched as winter turned slowly into spring. The ice-covered winter lawns began to thaw and the green began to show through. We watched the bare trees grow their first buds which gave way to blossom which are now full covers of leaves.
It’s interesting to watch the change of the seasons that way.
We also notice who has changed things on their houses. You can tell a lot about the occupants of a house by the small things. For example, it’s pretty easy to spot the retired folks because they have the type of lawns that require a landscaping company. They have quaint little ornaments in their front grass and flags that show the season. They never leave the flag up too long. Their decorations go up just at the right time. Then there are the proud homeowners who do their own mowing and they do it often. They attempt for the same neatly created lawn that the landscaping companies provide but it’s never quite as tidy.
Then there are the homeowners like me who like to have a tidy lawn but, well, we have other things to do. I try never to let my lawn get too long but there are days when I simply don’t have time to go measure the grass and try to make sure it’s the perfect length.
And then there are the people who just don’t like to mow. Some of them are renters as my disdainful neighbour once pointed out. In some cases, when they are a renter, it’s not their fault. They rent someone else’s house and the landlord has an agreement where he/she will mow the lawn as part of the rental agreement.
This, of course means, that the tenant doesn’t own his or her own personal lawnmower because there’s no need. They become reliant on the landlord to do so and when he/she doesn’t show up, their grass gets long.
Of course, there are other types of renters: These who just don’t cut their grass unless they’re to the point where they know they can’t avoid it much longer. My next door neighbour, Mr. Enormous Trousers, is one of these.
Mr. Enormous Trousers is married to a nice lady I will call Mrs. Enormous Trousers. They’re a very nice couple. They love my dogs. They make a point of stopping and talking to us every time they see us. Mr. Enormous Trousers is ok. He chats and then goes inside. Mrs. Enormous Trousers is very, very chatty. She tells me a lot about her family and her problems and her life. I don’t mind hearing it but when, like me, you have just promised a nice walk to your two little dachshunds and then, as soon as you head outside, you stop, it’s a little inconvenient. Both Sookie and Rory try to be patient with Mrs. Enormous Trousers but they’re not good at standing still immediately after getting to be outside on their leash.
Anyway, Mrs. Enormous Trousers has told me the ins and outs of Mr. Enormous Trousers’ health issues. Apparently, he used to be Mr. Even More Enormous Trousers but he’s lost a lot of weight. Also, he has bad knees and a bad bladder.
The point of my telling you this is that I also know they have two daughters and a son. One of the daughters is recently pregnant and this, Mrs. Enormous Trousers, was a bit of an unexpected ‘surprise.’
Mrs. Enormous Trousers has also told me that it’s very hard for them to get their lawn cut because Mr. Enormous Trousers also has a bad back. Thus, he can’t always mow. I haven’t quite figured out why Mrs. Enormous Trousers doesn’t mow because she doesn’t seem to have so many woes but, usually, when needs must, it’s still Mr. Enormous Trousers out there mowing.
Now, here’s the thing I don’t get. They have kids. Their kids are very healthy. They are also all above the age of 20. One of them still lives at home and she is not the pregnant one. Now, if I lived with my parents and my dad had health issues, wouldn’t the natural thing be to offer to mow the lawn?
Not so with this family, alas. In fact, when I was out mowing on Friday, clearly sweating in the heat and not feeling very chatty, Mrs. Enormous Trousers came over and had me stop the mower simply to tell me how well my mower mowed and, perhaps, I could just keep mowing on over to their lawn.
She said it with a laugh but I could tell there was some seriousness there. I contemplated it, briefly. It would have been a kind gesture and I generally do try to make those when I can. It’s just that my fear was that if I did it just once, it would be one of those things I’d feel like I had to do all the time. Also, I think they might actually expect it.
It’s not that I don’t like doing nice things for people but I’m not fond of mowing to begin with. Also, mowing takes gas which I was low on anyway. Finally, well, they have other people in their own house who can mow the lawn. In my case, I only have two dogs inside and the only way I could get Sookie and Rory to mow would be to coat the lawn with bacon and hope they pulled up the grass at the same time they grabbed the bacon.
I did feel bad. The kind thing to do would be to help them out. If they were completely stuck and they had no way of getting the lawn cut, I’d definitely help. I think I also might be a little oversensitive about it anyway: I tend to be a bit soft and I’ve been taken advantage of before so I’m a little more careful now.
Perhaps I’m talking about it to assuage my guilt. I’m definitely not someone to walk away from a person in need but we’re talking lawnmowing here. Besides, on the other side of Mr. Enormous Trousers is Wayne. Wayne is a neighbour I’ve only recently met. He just bought his very own industrial mower and he’s offered to cut my lawn for a small fee. Since I just got a new mower, I didn’t take him up on his enterprising offer but I can’t help but think he’d do the same for the Enormous Trousers’.
In the end, the boyfriend of the pregnant daughter came by and cut their lawn the morning after I did mine. I didn’t feel so bad then.
By the time he was done mowing, their lawn was as short as mine. It was hard to tell they were renters. The only evidence is the very long clippings that spray onto the sidewalk and reveal how long their grass actually was. This is a telltale sign of a renter, at least according to my chatty and slightly snobby neighbour, Mike of the Rather Large Backyard.
I prefer to think it may be the sign of someone whose lawn mower exploded or someone who simply doesn’t want to mow. You never can tell. There’s always a story behind every long lawn. Sometimes it’s simple and sometimes it requires a long conversation with Mrs. Enormous Trousers to find out why.
Either way, walking the pups in the neighbourhood is often an adventure, no matter what time of year.
Happy Tuesday!
We’ve been walking fairly regularly since the end of February. We’ve watched as winter turned slowly into spring. The ice-covered winter lawns began to thaw and the green began to show through. We watched the bare trees grow their first buds which gave way to blossom which are now full covers of leaves.
It’s interesting to watch the change of the seasons that way.
We also notice who has changed things on their houses. You can tell a lot about the occupants of a house by the small things. For example, it’s pretty easy to spot the retired folks because they have the type of lawns that require a landscaping company. They have quaint little ornaments in their front grass and flags that show the season. They never leave the flag up too long. Their decorations go up just at the right time. Then there are the proud homeowners who do their own mowing and they do it often. They attempt for the same neatly created lawn that the landscaping companies provide but it’s never quite as tidy.
Then there are the homeowners like me who like to have a tidy lawn but, well, we have other things to do. I try never to let my lawn get too long but there are days when I simply don’t have time to go measure the grass and try to make sure it’s the perfect length.
And then there are the people who just don’t like to mow. Some of them are renters as my disdainful neighbour once pointed out. In some cases, when they are a renter, it’s not their fault. They rent someone else’s house and the landlord has an agreement where he/she will mow the lawn as part of the rental agreement.
This, of course means, that the tenant doesn’t own his or her own personal lawnmower because there’s no need. They become reliant on the landlord to do so and when he/she doesn’t show up, their grass gets long.
Of course, there are other types of renters: These who just don’t cut their grass unless they’re to the point where they know they can’t avoid it much longer. My next door neighbour, Mr. Enormous Trousers, is one of these.
Mr. Enormous Trousers is married to a nice lady I will call Mrs. Enormous Trousers. They’re a very nice couple. They love my dogs. They make a point of stopping and talking to us every time they see us. Mr. Enormous Trousers is ok. He chats and then goes inside. Mrs. Enormous Trousers is very, very chatty. She tells me a lot about her family and her problems and her life. I don’t mind hearing it but when, like me, you have just promised a nice walk to your two little dachshunds and then, as soon as you head outside, you stop, it’s a little inconvenient. Both Sookie and Rory try to be patient with Mrs. Enormous Trousers but they’re not good at standing still immediately after getting to be outside on their leash.
Anyway, Mrs. Enormous Trousers has told me the ins and outs of Mr. Enormous Trousers’ health issues. Apparently, he used to be Mr. Even More Enormous Trousers but he’s lost a lot of weight. Also, he has bad knees and a bad bladder.
The point of my telling you this is that I also know they have two daughters and a son. One of the daughters is recently pregnant and this, Mrs. Enormous Trousers, was a bit of an unexpected ‘surprise.’
Mrs. Enormous Trousers has also told me that it’s very hard for them to get their lawn cut because Mr. Enormous Trousers also has a bad back. Thus, he can’t always mow. I haven’t quite figured out why Mrs. Enormous Trousers doesn’t mow because she doesn’t seem to have so many woes but, usually, when needs must, it’s still Mr. Enormous Trousers out there mowing.
Now, here’s the thing I don’t get. They have kids. Their kids are very healthy. They are also all above the age of 20. One of them still lives at home and she is not the pregnant one. Now, if I lived with my parents and my dad had health issues, wouldn’t the natural thing be to offer to mow the lawn?
Not so with this family, alas. In fact, when I was out mowing on Friday, clearly sweating in the heat and not feeling very chatty, Mrs. Enormous Trousers came over and had me stop the mower simply to tell me how well my mower mowed and, perhaps, I could just keep mowing on over to their lawn.
She said it with a laugh but I could tell there was some seriousness there. I contemplated it, briefly. It would have been a kind gesture and I generally do try to make those when I can. It’s just that my fear was that if I did it just once, it would be one of those things I’d feel like I had to do all the time. Also, I think they might actually expect it.
It’s not that I don’t like doing nice things for people but I’m not fond of mowing to begin with. Also, mowing takes gas which I was low on anyway. Finally, well, they have other people in their own house who can mow the lawn. In my case, I only have two dogs inside and the only way I could get Sookie and Rory to mow would be to coat the lawn with bacon and hope they pulled up the grass at the same time they grabbed the bacon.
I did feel bad. The kind thing to do would be to help them out. If they were completely stuck and they had no way of getting the lawn cut, I’d definitely help. I think I also might be a little oversensitive about it anyway: I tend to be a bit soft and I’ve been taken advantage of before so I’m a little more careful now.
Perhaps I’m talking about it to assuage my guilt. I’m definitely not someone to walk away from a person in need but we’re talking lawnmowing here. Besides, on the other side of Mr. Enormous Trousers is Wayne. Wayne is a neighbour I’ve only recently met. He just bought his very own industrial mower and he’s offered to cut my lawn for a small fee. Since I just got a new mower, I didn’t take him up on his enterprising offer but I can’t help but think he’d do the same for the Enormous Trousers’.
In the end, the boyfriend of the pregnant daughter came by and cut their lawn the morning after I did mine. I didn’t feel so bad then.
By the time he was done mowing, their lawn was as short as mine. It was hard to tell they were renters. The only evidence is the very long clippings that spray onto the sidewalk and reveal how long their grass actually was. This is a telltale sign of a renter, at least according to my chatty and slightly snobby neighbour, Mike of the Rather Large Backyard.
I prefer to think it may be the sign of someone whose lawn mower exploded or someone who simply doesn’t want to mow. You never can tell. There’s always a story behind every long lawn. Sometimes it’s simple and sometimes it requires a long conversation with Mrs. Enormous Trousers to find out why.
Either way, walking the pups in the neighbourhood is often an adventure, no matter what time of year.
Happy Tuesday!
Monday, May 16, 2011
I Need Sunshine on a Cloudy Day
I miss the sun.
It’s funny- I always complained that there was too much sun when I lived in L.A. and I missed non sunny weather too much. Now it seems, I’m unable to be content and now I’m complaining that I don’t like the rain.
The thing is, I do like rain. I like it a lot. It has a place. It’s necessary to make things grow. I’m just a little fed up of it. We haven’t had a real spring sunny day in a very long time. Last week, when the sun did actually shine it was on a very hot, muggy day that didn’t feel very springlike at all.
Today, we have a constant drizzle. It’s grey. It’s cold. It’s very un-Maylike. I’m a little sad about that. I like spring because it’s refreshing and pretty and green.
This spring, so far, has been grey, wet and green. It hasn’t been very refreshing.
I keep trying to see the bright side of all the rain. It’s not that it’s even good for the garden because the garden is so saturated, there’s nowhere for the rain to go. I’d say that it was nice to have an excuse to stay inside but I don’t want an excuse to stay inside.
Still, whining doesn’t help the fact that the sun isn’t supposed to shine much this week and, so far, the weather for the weekend is yet more rain.
It also doesn’t help the fact that I think everyone in this corner of the world feels the same way. Still, things could always be worse. Given the flooding down south and the tornadoes in Alabama, I think we’re pretty lucky.
It’s actually amazing how much the weather affects our moods though, isn’t it? In October, we welcome the first real ‘cold snap’ of the year and the dropping temperatures and welcome the autumn chill so we can start wearing warmer clothes, drinking hot beverages and enjoying the pumpkin-infused Fall. Then, by the beginning of January after the glow of the holidays is over and all that’s left is a stark new year, we’re longing for warmth and sunshine.
After a period of greyness like we’ve had, I’ve noticed that almost everyone feels the same way: sluggish, slightly crotchety and irritated that we’re being deprived of time outdoors. After all, here in the Midwest, we spent December through March inside because it was too cold and snowy/rainy to go outside. By April, we want to embrace the springtime.
It was ok in April. Though we got fed up of rain, the saying goes “April Showers Bring May Flowers.”
It’s just that May seems to have forgotten the flowers and is continuing with the showers.
I feel like a toddler that has been trapped inside too long. I want to run around, tilt my face up to the sunshine and smell the lilacs. Instead, my lilac bush appears to have given up and died because the roots got too wet. I’m sad about that. I had about two days of blossoming lilacs and they the bush started to go a rather alarming shade of dying green. I want to sit outside on my patio and feel the cool Spring evening start to move in on the warmth of the day.
Still, there is one bright side to all this rain: There’s always hope for a sunny tomorrow. When the sun does shine, we appreciate it more. This is why, in my neighbourhood, at the mere hint of sunshine, the cacophony of a hundred mowers rises into the air.
In the meantime, some people actually have decided that drizzle and light rain is a perfectly acceptable accompaniment to mowing and the sound of a lone mower often accompanies the greyness. The kids on my street have started playing outside when the rain is light, wearing raincoats and playing their normal games. I suppose there comes a time when you realize that the rain isn’t going to stop but it shouldn’t stop you.
Maybe that’s what I need to take from this. I need to get myself a pair of non-leaky wellington boots and a rain jacket and ignore the fact that the rain is coming down. After all, when it’s wet, the weeds come up a little easier and it’s easier to dig.
After all, that’s how the world has functioned through the centuries, right? By adapting and evolving. So, maybe I’ll adapt and evolve and pretend that I live in Seattle where it rains a lot.
In the meantime, I’ll just keep up that hope that, maybe, just maybe, it won’t be raining tomorrow.
Happy Tuesday!
It’s funny- I always complained that there was too much sun when I lived in L.A. and I missed non sunny weather too much. Now it seems, I’m unable to be content and now I’m complaining that I don’t like the rain.
The thing is, I do like rain. I like it a lot. It has a place. It’s necessary to make things grow. I’m just a little fed up of it. We haven’t had a real spring sunny day in a very long time. Last week, when the sun did actually shine it was on a very hot, muggy day that didn’t feel very springlike at all.
Today, we have a constant drizzle. It’s grey. It’s cold. It’s very un-Maylike. I’m a little sad about that. I like spring because it’s refreshing and pretty and green.
This spring, so far, has been grey, wet and green. It hasn’t been very refreshing.
I keep trying to see the bright side of all the rain. It’s not that it’s even good for the garden because the garden is so saturated, there’s nowhere for the rain to go. I’d say that it was nice to have an excuse to stay inside but I don’t want an excuse to stay inside.
Still, whining doesn’t help the fact that the sun isn’t supposed to shine much this week and, so far, the weather for the weekend is yet more rain.
It also doesn’t help the fact that I think everyone in this corner of the world feels the same way. Still, things could always be worse. Given the flooding down south and the tornadoes in Alabama, I think we’re pretty lucky.
It’s actually amazing how much the weather affects our moods though, isn’t it? In October, we welcome the first real ‘cold snap’ of the year and the dropping temperatures and welcome the autumn chill so we can start wearing warmer clothes, drinking hot beverages and enjoying the pumpkin-infused Fall. Then, by the beginning of January after the glow of the holidays is over and all that’s left is a stark new year, we’re longing for warmth and sunshine.
After a period of greyness like we’ve had, I’ve noticed that almost everyone feels the same way: sluggish, slightly crotchety and irritated that we’re being deprived of time outdoors. After all, here in the Midwest, we spent December through March inside because it was too cold and snowy/rainy to go outside. By April, we want to embrace the springtime.
It was ok in April. Though we got fed up of rain, the saying goes “April Showers Bring May Flowers.”
It’s just that May seems to have forgotten the flowers and is continuing with the showers.
I feel like a toddler that has been trapped inside too long. I want to run around, tilt my face up to the sunshine and smell the lilacs. Instead, my lilac bush appears to have given up and died because the roots got too wet. I’m sad about that. I had about two days of blossoming lilacs and they the bush started to go a rather alarming shade of dying green. I want to sit outside on my patio and feel the cool Spring evening start to move in on the warmth of the day.
Still, there is one bright side to all this rain: There’s always hope for a sunny tomorrow. When the sun does shine, we appreciate it more. This is why, in my neighbourhood, at the mere hint of sunshine, the cacophony of a hundred mowers rises into the air.
In the meantime, some people actually have decided that drizzle and light rain is a perfectly acceptable accompaniment to mowing and the sound of a lone mower often accompanies the greyness. The kids on my street have started playing outside when the rain is light, wearing raincoats and playing their normal games. I suppose there comes a time when you realize that the rain isn’t going to stop but it shouldn’t stop you.
Maybe that’s what I need to take from this. I need to get myself a pair of non-leaky wellington boots and a rain jacket and ignore the fact that the rain is coming down. After all, when it’s wet, the weeds come up a little easier and it’s easier to dig.
After all, that’s how the world has functioned through the centuries, right? By adapting and evolving. So, maybe I’ll adapt and evolve and pretend that I live in Seattle where it rains a lot.
In the meantime, I’ll just keep up that hope that, maybe, just maybe, it won’t be raining tomorrow.
Happy Tuesday!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Spring Reflections
It's officially spring. Even though the calendar, weather and nature has ascerted this fact for several weeks now, as I sit in my new Tuscan room typing this, I can currently hear a cacaphony of lawnmowers performing the first mow of the season. I mowed my grass last week just for the sake of my low-to-the-ground pups who were having trouble maneuvering through the lawn. I didn't, however, mow the front yard because it really didn't need it. I just got back from my parents'. In the short two days I've been gone, my lawn seems to have grown about three inches and the dandelions are thick. Of course, because literally everyone else on my street mowed today or are currently mowing, my lawn looks doubly bad. I suppose I should mow but it will have to wait. It's been a beautiful weekend. Today, it actually got up to 85 degrees. This was a little too warm for my tastes especially given that only three days ago, it was only 45 degrees outside. Still, even with the mugginess of the sudden heat, it's lovely to be outside. It's nice to sit outside and enjoy the fact that winter is truly behind us. I also love that my herbs are starting to be ready to use. That's the one thing I miss dearly during the winter months- having a herb garden from which I can pluck a handful of whatever I need for my recipe without having to go to the store and pay ridiculous prices for some not-so-fresh-but-wanting-to-be herbs. It's also nice to sit in my Tuscan room. Changing the room over from being a retro '70's disco den was a good idea. There was no disco ball in the den but there might as well have been. It had that dark, fake wood panelling so popular in the '70's. It also had very thick, flowery curtains which I'm sure were nice but were far more to the tastes of the 70 year old lady who formerly owned the house than mine. Also, there is thick mustard-yellow carpet. All that remains of the '70's is the carpet which I'm hoping to fix by next weekend. The panelling is now a sunny yellow that matches my poppy-laden paintings of Tuscany perfectly. It feels like a completely different room. For the first time since I moved into my house, I want to sit in the room instead of using it for storage and a passageway to let the dogs out. It's amazing how much something as small as a coat of paint and some new curtains can change a room. It's now a great place to sit with a glass of wine and feel the breeze blow through while having a quick way to glance outside and make sure that the pups aren't Up to No Good. Sitting here writing this is a nice way to wrap up a weekend spent with my parents and my siblings that was already pretty great. It was one of those unplanned weekends that turned out to be a lot of fun which also served to remind me how glad I am that I moved back from Los Angeles. Even though it's only been a couple of years, it's amazing how much my life has changed since then. It was something I was reflecting on during the drive back from my parents. I still miss my friends in L.A. I do miss the variety of landscapes and the balmy Santa Ana winds. I miss the ocean. There are a lot of things I do miss. However, there's also something to be said about being able to hop in the car with the dogs, crank up the iPod and drive two hours to spend a lazy, sunny, spring weekend with my family. It's just another series of small things that makes life wonderful. Happy Monday and thanks for reading!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Bad Days are Relative...and Often Fixable
Today was a much better day than yesterday. It was still wasn’t one of the best days I ever had but if I had those all the time, they wouldn’t be best days, would they?
Granted, I went to work in a somewhat dour mood, still a little under a cloud from yesterday. I also realized halfway through the morning when I went to the bathroom that the cute little outfit I’d assembled was a little different in effect that I’d intended. Normally I, Captain Monkeypants, and a somewhat, um, under-endowed female. This is to say that never would anyone look at me and say “Those aren’t REAL!” They’d have a bit of trouble really find them in the first place. However, thanks to the miracles of female undergarments and the wonderous push up bra, today’s accidental effect was for me to look in the mirror and realize that I had a bit of a, uh, ‘boobs mcGee’ effect going on. My top was cut a little lower than normal and the ‘pushing up’ was a little more extreme than intended.
Needless to say, it made me think, “oops,” and so at lunch, I remedied the problem a little. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with being a ‘boobs mcGee’ but, well, it is the office and, well, I’m not exactly someone who goes for that effect very often. If at all. It was almost as bad as the Gold Shirt Wardrobe Mistake of 2010 but it was the type of thing that made me walk around all morning with my arms trying to hide my extreme cleavage effect and made me, well, horribly paranoid that a) people were wondering where the cleavage came from and b) that I was dressed rather inappropriately for work. Chances are, they didn't really care but, well, it's the type of thing you can't stop obsessing about until you remedy it which I did at lunch time. It was a small fix but made things feel better.
So, aside from that slight hiccup, the day wasn’t nearly as bad for me as yesterday. Also, my coworker’s mother passed away unexpectedly and as these tragic events are wont to do, it put my ‘bad day’ in perspective.
That’s the thing with having a bad day, really, isn’t it? Someone’s always got it way worse. The worst feeling is when you have a whine or moan about how irritating your day was because it didn’t go as planned and then you find out the person you’re whining or moaning to has just lost their mother or someone they’re close to has cancer or they just got fired or laid off.
It puts things in perspective.
In my case, it makes me feel instantly guilty and horrible because while I’m complaining about petty little stuff. I hate that feeling because it makes me feel like I’m a lousy human being.
Of course, people are nice and they politely listen and sympathize but even when they say it’s ok to vent because it helps, there’s that voice in my head that says, ‘you’re horrible! How can you whine that your candidate backed out of a job and made you look stupid when [person to whom I am whining] is dealing with [REALLY bad situation]?”
The benefit of this is that over time, I’ve learned to hold back on my venting unless I know it’s safe. If worst comes to worst, I feel sorry for myself for a bit, hug a dachshund and try to put it behind me. I also call my mother because she’s the one person guaranteed to love me even when I’m complaining about silly petty things. Well, I think my dogs love me too but since I’m pretty sure that they don’t understand a word that comes out of my mouth unless it’s one of their favourite words like, “Dinner,” “Walk,” “treat”, “Rory” or “Sookie,” it’s a little different.
The moral of the story is that my day yesterday felt horrible while it was happening. It slowed me down a little at work but, really, it wasn’t anything that I couldn’t fend off with an evening spent mowing the lawn, watching TV and having a nice glass of wine.
It helped that it was the first mow of the season. I hadn’t planned on mowing but the dogs being relatively low to the ground have been having a spot of trouble getting over the rather large, tall clumps of grass as they run around the garden. Sometimes, I’ve lost them and gone out into a panic only to discover they were lying in a tall patch of grass.
So I mowed. My mower was angry. It ran out of oil. I added oil. Mower and I fought. I won. Mower had to mow.
Of course, given the fact that I’m not overly fond of mowing, I wouldn’t say I really “won” per se but, well, the grass is pretty even and the dogs can run freely. Next time I mow, I’m determined to make it more even. It’s hard when there are holes from digging dogs all over the place.
I figure that getting the grass cut was a victory. Also, spending quite a long time yanking the mower’s cord and trying to get the bloody thing to start is definitely a good way to take out some frustration even if a new breed of frustration arises when the mower doesn’t start. It’s worth it the minute the motor catches, finally and begins chugging along.
Also, when I’m mowing, it means I can watch the pups to make sure they’re not trying to find the latest and greatest way to escape. That, I think, is a double win.
In short, with the help of a stubborn mower, a wonderful mother, two cute dogs and a sobering reminder of what a bad day really is, I’m back to normal and grateful that a bad day for me could be solved so easily. Even if I did have an emergency clothes change at lunch.
And it helps that it’s almost the weekend.
Thanks, as always, for reading. Happy Friday!
Granted, I went to work in a somewhat dour mood, still a little under a cloud from yesterday. I also realized halfway through the morning when I went to the bathroom that the cute little outfit I’d assembled was a little different in effect that I’d intended. Normally I, Captain Monkeypants, and a somewhat, um, under-endowed female. This is to say that never would anyone look at me and say “Those aren’t REAL!” They’d have a bit of trouble really find them in the first place. However, thanks to the miracles of female undergarments and the wonderous push up bra, today’s accidental effect was for me to look in the mirror and realize that I had a bit of a, uh, ‘boobs mcGee’ effect going on. My top was cut a little lower than normal and the ‘pushing up’ was a little more extreme than intended.
Needless to say, it made me think, “oops,” and so at lunch, I remedied the problem a little. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with being a ‘boobs mcGee’ but, well, it is the office and, well, I’m not exactly someone who goes for that effect very often. If at all. It was almost as bad as the Gold Shirt Wardrobe Mistake of 2010 but it was the type of thing that made me walk around all morning with my arms trying to hide my extreme cleavage effect and made me, well, horribly paranoid that a) people were wondering where the cleavage came from and b) that I was dressed rather inappropriately for work. Chances are, they didn't really care but, well, it's the type of thing you can't stop obsessing about until you remedy it which I did at lunch time. It was a small fix but made things feel better.
So, aside from that slight hiccup, the day wasn’t nearly as bad for me as yesterday. Also, my coworker’s mother passed away unexpectedly and as these tragic events are wont to do, it put my ‘bad day’ in perspective.
That’s the thing with having a bad day, really, isn’t it? Someone’s always got it way worse. The worst feeling is when you have a whine or moan about how irritating your day was because it didn’t go as planned and then you find out the person you’re whining or moaning to has just lost their mother or someone they’re close to has cancer or they just got fired or laid off.
It puts things in perspective.
In my case, it makes me feel instantly guilty and horrible because while I’m complaining about petty little stuff. I hate that feeling because it makes me feel like I’m a lousy human being.
Of course, people are nice and they politely listen and sympathize but even when they say it’s ok to vent because it helps, there’s that voice in my head that says, ‘you’re horrible! How can you whine that your candidate backed out of a job and made you look stupid when [person to whom I am whining] is dealing with [REALLY bad situation]?”
The benefit of this is that over time, I’ve learned to hold back on my venting unless I know it’s safe. If worst comes to worst, I feel sorry for myself for a bit, hug a dachshund and try to put it behind me. I also call my mother because she’s the one person guaranteed to love me even when I’m complaining about silly petty things. Well, I think my dogs love me too but since I’m pretty sure that they don’t understand a word that comes out of my mouth unless it’s one of their favourite words like, “Dinner,” “Walk,” “treat”, “Rory” or “Sookie,” it’s a little different.
The moral of the story is that my day yesterday felt horrible while it was happening. It slowed me down a little at work but, really, it wasn’t anything that I couldn’t fend off with an evening spent mowing the lawn, watching TV and having a nice glass of wine.
It helped that it was the first mow of the season. I hadn’t planned on mowing but the dogs being relatively low to the ground have been having a spot of trouble getting over the rather large, tall clumps of grass as they run around the garden. Sometimes, I’ve lost them and gone out into a panic only to discover they were lying in a tall patch of grass.
So I mowed. My mower was angry. It ran out of oil. I added oil. Mower and I fought. I won. Mower had to mow.
Of course, given the fact that I’m not overly fond of mowing, I wouldn’t say I really “won” per se but, well, the grass is pretty even and the dogs can run freely. Next time I mow, I’m determined to make it more even. It’s hard when there are holes from digging dogs all over the place.
I figure that getting the grass cut was a victory. Also, spending quite a long time yanking the mower’s cord and trying to get the bloody thing to start is definitely a good way to take out some frustration even if a new breed of frustration arises when the mower doesn’t start. It’s worth it the minute the motor catches, finally and begins chugging along.
Also, when I’m mowing, it means I can watch the pups to make sure they’re not trying to find the latest and greatest way to escape. That, I think, is a double win.
In short, with the help of a stubborn mower, a wonderful mother, two cute dogs and a sobering reminder of what a bad day really is, I’m back to normal and grateful that a bad day for me could be solved so easily. Even if I did have an emergency clothes change at lunch.
And it helps that it’s almost the weekend.
Thanks, as always, for reading. Happy Friday!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
After the Indian Summer is Gone...
Our Indian summer is over. It was one of those days where, when you get up, it's chilly outside. There's not quite a frost but nature was thinking about it. It's cold enough that you feel like you need a jacket but if you wear one, you're going to feel a little silly by midday when it's warmed up and you're suddenly carrying around a jacket. You still want to put the jacket on because it's still not warm, per se and yet...well, you're not used to it being jacket weather and you don't want to give in, not yet...even though it's time.
It was still a beautiful day out there today. Most of the leaves have fallen and they're swept into tidy heaps. Some ambitious souls are still mowing their lawns. I don't understand this, honestly. I know it's a way of mulching the leaves but the grass is dying back. We didn't have enough rain this summer for the grass to grow much at all during late July/August. Besides that, we've had a hard frost and it's bad for the lawn to cut it.
Still, when I run home at lunch to release the hounds from their crate, there are usually a couple of men mowing their lawns in the warm sun. Perhaps it's their attempt to cling on to the warmer days of the past season. Perhaps they just like mowing their lawn. It's hard to say. Yet there's a chill to the air now that wasn't here last week. It's the type of chill that's letting us know that winter isn't too far away and autumn is saying goodbye to summer, once and for all.
The evenings are cooler again after the tease of the Indian summer. I walked the pups again tonight and as I walked with them, I realized that if you were to take the calendar and flip it horizontally so that we were in spring, not autumn, this was the exact type of evening you'd find. It comes in after a warm day and there's a chill to the air, the same type of chill there was tonight.
The puppies will be disappointed that Indian summer is over. They love their 'leaf dives' in the evenings. Now, with the time change, it's getting dark when we start out and almost dark when we're done. Rory has been able to perform her belly flops into leaf piles under cover of night. It makes it a little less embarrassing if she splats the pile back into an untidy mess of leaves instead of a neatly swept pile. I try to stop her but she's a dachshund on a mission. Sookie, meanwhile, waits for Rory to splat the pile and then she has a nose. One time, they found a vole that one of the neighbourhood cats had clearly hidden in the pile. They thought it was a prize until I made them drop it. They do like their prizes. They haven't caught much in our garden though they had a lovely time hunting voles at my parents. By my count, they caught three. They also caught a rather large cricket and found a recently dead bird. There's no doubt about it: My dogs are hunters.
Yet they also enjoy the sniff of the hunt as much as the thrill of a catch. That's what they do on their walks. You can always tell when they've scented a bunny and they know it's nearby. The leashes go taut and they're both poised, ready to locate the bunny. The nice thing about them being on a leash is...they're on a leash. I can control their hunting expedition.
Of course, I still can't quite control Rory and her tendency to belly flop into leaf piles but it's probably because I just don't try as hard. There's something just too adorable about watching her run, do this strange little leap and suddenly be in the middle of the pile while her sister looks on, as though shaking her head and saying, "Messy little sod!"
Then again, maybe that's me.
Oh well, we may as well enjoy our autumn walks while the weather is letting us still take them. Belly flops and all.
Happy Tuesday!
It was still a beautiful day out there today. Most of the leaves have fallen and they're swept into tidy heaps. Some ambitious souls are still mowing their lawns. I don't understand this, honestly. I know it's a way of mulching the leaves but the grass is dying back. We didn't have enough rain this summer for the grass to grow much at all during late July/August. Besides that, we've had a hard frost and it's bad for the lawn to cut it.
Still, when I run home at lunch to release the hounds from their crate, there are usually a couple of men mowing their lawns in the warm sun. Perhaps it's their attempt to cling on to the warmer days of the past season. Perhaps they just like mowing their lawn. It's hard to say. Yet there's a chill to the air now that wasn't here last week. It's the type of chill that's letting us know that winter isn't too far away and autumn is saying goodbye to summer, once and for all.
The evenings are cooler again after the tease of the Indian summer. I walked the pups again tonight and as I walked with them, I realized that if you were to take the calendar and flip it horizontally so that we were in spring, not autumn, this was the exact type of evening you'd find. It comes in after a warm day and there's a chill to the air, the same type of chill there was tonight.
The puppies will be disappointed that Indian summer is over. They love their 'leaf dives' in the evenings. Now, with the time change, it's getting dark when we start out and almost dark when we're done. Rory has been able to perform her belly flops into leaf piles under cover of night. It makes it a little less embarrassing if she splats the pile back into an untidy mess of leaves instead of a neatly swept pile. I try to stop her but she's a dachshund on a mission. Sookie, meanwhile, waits for Rory to splat the pile and then she has a nose. One time, they found a vole that one of the neighbourhood cats had clearly hidden in the pile. They thought it was a prize until I made them drop it. They do like their prizes. They haven't caught much in our garden though they had a lovely time hunting voles at my parents. By my count, they caught three. They also caught a rather large cricket and found a recently dead bird. There's no doubt about it: My dogs are hunters.
Yet they also enjoy the sniff of the hunt as much as the thrill of a catch. That's what they do on their walks. You can always tell when they've scented a bunny and they know it's nearby. The leashes go taut and they're both poised, ready to locate the bunny. The nice thing about them being on a leash is...they're on a leash. I can control their hunting expedition.
Of course, I still can't quite control Rory and her tendency to belly flop into leaf piles but it's probably because I just don't try as hard. There's something just too adorable about watching her run, do this strange little leap and suddenly be in the middle of the pile while her sister looks on, as though shaking her head and saying, "Messy little sod!"
Then again, maybe that's me.
Oh well, we may as well enjoy our autumn walks while the weather is letting us still take them. Belly flops and all.
Happy Tuesday!
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