Post-Christmas

It's all over but the shouting... and the cleanup. Christmas seemed to take its time getting here, and now it's suddenly over and we're looking forward to the new year, 2010. Mike and I went to more celebrations than usual and even hosted a brunch. All were festive and joyful, because of the people mostly. Our kids and their mates are terrific, and it's always a pleasure to be with them, no matter what the reason.

Of course we indulged ourselves by eating way too much of the wrong kind of food, and we're both paying for it... but, hey! what are holidays for?! The frig and freezer are full , but in time the temptation will dwindle to the point that I'll be able to toss most of those leftovers. I had to sack up the chocolates, because we both love those the MOST.

The tree is looking a little lonely, even though we've left most of our gifts under and around it, so it will be coming down right after New Year's, if not before. The Christmas wrap and ribbon and tags have yet to be put away, as do the fun and silly knick-knacks I put out every year. The wonderful gifts, of which there were many, will be put into use and enjoyed and remembered as part of this year's joy.

Right now I'm in the midst of doing year-end bookkeeping for the golf course: W-2s, WH-3, SUTA, FUTA, 940, 941.... Without Quick Books Pro I would probably falter and fail at this job, but they make it easy. Of course, I get better at it every year, and learn new things that help the process. The golf course is all but shut down completely with the weather so cold and snowy, but 2010 memberships are pouring in, so we know that the golfers are already anxious to be out with their clubs.

Mike and I look forward to the peace and quiet of the winter months. We watch movies and read and sleep... and recover from the constant requirements of golf course management. However, it's inevitable that before long we will both be anxious for it all to start up again.

Azaleas! Dogwood! Dandelions?

There's nothing much more spectacular than a blooming azalea. Our red azalea insists on pouring through the patio railing, making certain we don't miss its glory, and to make sure we don't forget that it is the first of two dwarf bushes to bloom in the Spring. Then, about the time it starts looking a little tired, along comes lovely Miss Orange Azalea, not to be outdone. She pours out the other way, into the yard, where I have to surround her with bricks lest she get in the way of the mower (or the mower in her way, I should say!)
I wondered, when we first moved here, why the previous owners didn't plant two of the same variety. It's easy to understand now that having two of these lovelies guarantees a prolonged Springtime. They're both simply gorgeous, and we look forward to them every year.




Along about the same time of the year, and often close to Easter Sunday, the dogwood trees come into bloom, making splashes and clouds of white here and there through the woods and at the edges of fields. There is a legend about the shape and color of the blossoms. The dogwood has been "adopted" by the Christian religion as a symbol of the crucifixion of Christ. The legend says that a flowering dogwood tree was used to make the cross of the crucifixion and as a result it now grows as a living memory of the event. The cross is represented by the four petals; the petals' brownish marks represent the nails; the center of the flower sometimes resembles a crown. Take it or leave it, it's an interesting story.


And then, of course, there are the ubiquitous dandelions! This picture shows how obnoxious they can be, infiltrating themselves into areas where it is most difficult to dig them out without destroying something else. I still remember, though, how my children, when they were small, would pick handsful of dandelion blossoms and present them to me as a bouquet. A mom can't ever forget those dancing eyes and cute smiles. I'm certain the same tableau continues today with other moms and kids, because we've never found a permanent dandelion slayer... so that's a good thing.

Lessons from Mother Nature

Yesterday I pulled old electric-powered pathway lights and put in new solar-powered lights and got to thinking how we take for granted the changes in the seasons and the new growth in the spring, but in actuality it’s a mind-boggling transformation and a recurring miracle. I know for certain that springtime is invigorating to flowers, trees and humans alike. We have more energy; we make plans, plot gardens, start projects, do some spring cleaning; we’re inspired to dance to the music (as if no one is watching); we feel grateful for what feels like a reward for doing something great that we don’t remember doing.

We struggle along. Take a lesson from this poor little Japanese maple tree. It has been in the ground for six years and is still not quite three feet tall… a real slow-grower. I’ve babied it through several seasons, never being sure if it was going to leaf out again in the spring… but here it is again in all its glory. I really want that tree to grow right where it is, even though it does have wet feet most of the spring. There’s a lesson to be learned from its determination to grow where it’s planted.

Can you guess what this is? Looks a little like that poor, stunted tree. When it’s mature (which will happen within days), it will look totally different, and will support many very large, pink, many-petaled blooms right around Memorial Day. It’s surrounded by lilies-of-the-valley that spread in circumference every year. They’re all about to bloom… stay tuned. A lesson here? Even “ugly” has the potential to be beautiful… watch and learn… wait and see.

The Japanese maple could take a lesson from this blue fescue that has re-seeded itself from the border along the north side of the driveway into the driveway itself, growing up out of the gravel. Mike and I have guessed that maybe the ground is less acid there. Even so, it’s something of a miracle that anything other than a weed could take root in a driveway. It’s pretty there, though, so there it stays, and maybe it will continue to re-seed. I like this daring-to-be-different little guy.

Here’s an example of how unpredictable and contrary Mother Nature can be. This Washington Hawthorne tree has the most beautiful clusters of flowers in the spring, pink at first, gradually changing to white. The leaves are dense and the tree itself is quite beautiful. However! It has long thorns on the trunk and on the branches that make it very un-friendly. Also, the roots are shallow and insist on coming up through the ground, trying to make more thorny little trees. It’s a Washington Hawthorne, and I think it’s going to struggle to have its way, no matter what this human wants.

Life happens. Rejoice and be glad.

New Life

Springtime is truly here at last. The first flowering trees are bursting forth, the daffodils are swaying in the breeze and the tulips are delighting my senses with their magnificent colors. It is always worth the wait, because Spring is so lovely. How is it possible that grass greens up so quickly to such a lush, deep green? Even the dandelions are forcing their faces into the sunlight. The very air had a soft feel to it as I walked around the back yard yesterday. These pictures are of some "junk trees" along the west side of our property. They always bloom very early and then the blooms are suddenly gone, and I can never tell which trees they were. These exquisite, feathery blooms make a delicate display that reassure me that "God's in His heaven and all is right with the world".

Spring has sprung; the work's begun

My first day outside enjoying the sunshine found me happily at "work" in the wannabe landscaped area in front of the house. I found some of the first tiny spring flowers as well as one of the very messy areas that needed cleaning up. So, here you have the before and after pictures, taken an hour and a half apart. Yup, took that long to cut down the grasses in the back next to the house, trim the shrubs, pick all last fall's leaves out of the bushes, and finally get all the leaves cleaned up off the ground. It was so much fun I think I'll try it again tomorrow! Now all I have to do is decide which area to tackle next.

Waiting for Spring

Sunshine today and it looks lovely... looking out the window from inside, that is. In reality, it is windy and below freezing, so it's not really very pleasant out there. I did go out with an armload of recyclables and sorted them into the bins on our back patio, but scurried right back in. However, I did hear my crocus and daffodils and tulips pushing up from underground, eager to fill my world with color. The first few ladybugs and ants have made their way into the house, so Spring can't be far behind! Things are about to change in a big way.

The whole political climate is changing, too. Can you believe how much our new president has accomplished in only 39 days? That's one high energy fella, and regardless of a person's affiliation, everyone has to admire his commitment to change and his sustained determination. I can't help but think he is going to drag a whole lot of people along with him, perhaps even some who are kicking and screaming right now, and that many things are going to be very different. Enough politics...

While I wait for Spring I am reading and knitting and cooking, watching Netflix movies, exercising on my elliptical, organizing stuff around the house and in my computer. I've also taken on a volunteer editing job with Kiva, an organization that manages small loans to entrepreneurs around the world. I enjoy the editing part, but more importantly I like getting a glimpse into other countries, the families and the individuals, and I like the idea that they are trying so hard to improve their lives, and that they are getting help and being encouraged to change things for the better. It's the immediate and very personal glimpse of possibilities that engages me the most... and certainly a valuable and satisfactory way to spend my time.

So, I try not to be impatient with Old Man Winter, and to remember that the world keeps turning and that "to everything there is a season".

Winter's Last Hurrah

When Mike told me this morning that it was only .6 degrees outside (that's point 6, as in less than one!!) I decided to try to be positive about yet another freezing cold day, and said, "This is Winter's last hurrah." Such a common phrase, but what does it mean? Off to my computer in the den, then to Google and on to Wikipedia: Last Hurrah means "a final appearance or effort, especially at the end of a career". Then on to a dictionary that called the phrase an American idiom and defined it as "a last performance before someone finishes a job or activity".

Okay, we're getting there, now where did the phrase come from? Back to Google. It was a 1956 novel by Edwin O'Connor about an old Irish American political boss running for re-election as mayor for the last time. A movie by the same name and based on the book was released in 1958 and starred Spencer Tracy. It was about "urban boss politics". A summary of the movie by Ed Lorusso describes it: "...(the movie) examines the good and evil inherent in politics and all the things that go into an election...(it portrays) an uphill battle against political machinery that preyed on ethnic hatred and old-time money." (Personal note: Has anything changed much?)

As an aside, I also learned that there is a business called The Last Hurrah Book Shop that specializes in selling books and memorabilia about, of all things, political assassinations. (Does this go into the category of "anything for a buck"?)

I have a built in barometer (called sinuses) that are telling me loud and clear that a big weather change is coming, so there is hope that Old Man Winter will soon expire and warmer days are on their way. (Wonder where "old man winter" came from?)

Snow Day

Oh the north wind doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will the robin do then, poor thing?
She’ll fly to the barn to keep herself warm
And hide her head under her wing, poor thing.

Oh the north wind doth blow and we shall have snow
And what will the sparrow do then, poor thing?
She’ll hide in the hay and there she will stay
The whole winter snuggling in, poor thing.

Cold Snap

Could it be any colder? It's hovering around zero degrees here because we are part of the winter cold that blew ferociously down from way up north a couple days ago. In-house sinus pressure predicted a drastic change, so it was inevitable. We are not used to it and hope never to become so. New insulation in the attic is possibly helping, but it's pretty hard to tell with the heater running constantly. I'm not even sure it's blowing warm air right now, seeing as how the thermostat is set at 66 and the temperature in the house is 52. People in South Dakota had (what did I hear?) -47 degrees yesterday? or was it -37. Doesn't much matter when the cold settles in for a visit. Talk about an unwelcome guest!

Let's see, what's good about really cold winters? It kills all the bugs, that's one very good thing. There was one gnat and one ladybug in the house yesterday, reminding us that they don't like the cold either and would love an invitation to live indoors with us. Another good thing: it guarantees dormancy in perennial growing things, so they get a nice sleep and aren't tempted to "spring" up too soon. Would it be safe to say that this weather also kills germs and bacteria? Probably not; certainly not inside. Maybe it puts a stop to mold and mildew? I'm reaching now, hoping to add to the plus side of this list.

My fingers are very cold and turning white, and the temperature in the house has actually dropped a degree, so goldurn it, there's something wrong with the furnace. Fiddlesticks...

Sunshine in December

Many folks are suffering really unpleasant winter weather, including most of the Northwest and the Northeast. Here we are in beautiful southern Indiana with nothing worse than a little humidity caught between the panes of our windows. It's a little cold outside, surely not warm enough for golf, but there is blue sky and sunshine and Christmas is on its way. Aren't we lucky? Birds inside and out are singing ;-)

Change of seasons

Mother Nature seems to be right in the swing of things, being the originator of "change", which is the catch word of this election season. It's been a weird year altogether, weather-wise, what with climate change and all. A wet spring, a dry summer, and now we're enjoying Indian summer, one of my favorite times of year.

Our apple tree went berserk this year and Mike is still picking perfect apples off the ground. For a while, he had them strung along the patio railing. In spite of the weather my flowers thrived, and the scraggly rose at the southeast corner of the house is still blooming like there was no tomorrow. I keep thinking I've seen the last rose of summer but then lots of new buds arrive.

Concentrate on the simple gifts of sky and trees and flowers, small children and animals, and try to calm your mind before you go into the voting booth on Tuesday. ;)

October means apples

Back home again in Indiana, I found our apple tree fairly burgeoning with fruit. Some of the branches were touching the ground and the apples were begging to be harvested. A few years ago a storm brought down an old tree from the west side of our house, and it took out a second apple tree. At the time I thought, "Good, now I won't have to deal with apples because the remaining tree needs to cross pollinate." Turns out our neighbor to the south has an apple tree of the same variety, Red Delicious, and it's apparently established a mutually beneficial relationship with our tree. Because we don't spray with chemicals, few of the apples were perfect, so I've been peeling and slicing and freezing for days. Come winter I'll be glad to have the makings of pies and cobblers and applesauce, but right now this isn't the most fun thing to do, mainly because of having to fight the fruit flies and gnats. Son Eric and his wife Colleen are getting two large grocery bags of apples today. The deer and racoons and possums and groundhogs can have the rest. I'm done.