We are enjoying the rain even if it is at a trickle at a time. For most of the day the purple clouds have hugged us much like a flannel sheet. The grass doesn’t need much encouragement in the way of rain and did beckon Dennis today. He decided that to begin mowing more than once a week would send the wrong message for the rest of the mowing season.
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Noreen
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Noreen
Somebody poked the clouds and we received a wonder 1/2 inch of rain. The perennials seem to have popped out of the soil.
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Noreen
I would love to get out my stepladder, and be brave enough and steady enough to stand on the very top step and poke holes in those stinking clouds that won’t let the rain come out. Yeah, well . . . in my dreams.
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Noreen
What a great day to be outside. The question of the day: whose idea was it 25 years ago to outline the flower gardens with bricks? We needed to make it easier to till the gardens and also to mow up to the edges. It was amazing how much heavier and larger the “old time” bricks were in comparison to the terracotta colored newer ones. With just the right clash the newer ones would break or chip. I can’t imagine what it would take to break the older ones in half or to even chip them. My hands had all they could do to span the width of the old ones. We stacked them neatly against the railroad ties that are the foundation of the potting shed. When the time comes to give the potting shed a new coat of paint, we sure do not want to be moving these behemoth bricks another time and Dennis did not want them stacked against the sheeting of the potting shed.
Our Fleet and Farm wheelbarrow, that was a special years ago for $19.99, would really have its frame twisted if more than 20 of the heavier bricks were loaded into it at one time. The far east flower garden will have to wait to be de-bricked, as Dennis and I need to rest up a bit. The plan is to take the pickup to the far east bed: load them all at one time and haul them home with one trip.
Yup, the older ones on Stauffer made great strides today in keeping the gardening a bit easier to manage. There was no counting the volunteer maple seedlings that thought the space between the bricks was up for grabs.
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Noreen
The sporting season on Stauffer has started.
Lena’s Fern Peonies: Struggling.
Butter Ball and Snuggles: Scoring with each bat of a paw.
It was time for some intervention: Critter Ridder.
We have an acre of various types of vegetation for the cats to play in or demolish, just because they can. The Fern Peony plants were shared with me from my mom, Lena. She, in turn, received them from my Dad’s mother. The Fern Peony tubers are very expensive in nurseries to the tune of $40 for one little spindle growing in a four inch pot. It does take years for the tubers to multiply into a wonder showing in a bush.
Dennis has witnessed Butter Ball batting at a stem with a bud on it until the bud falls off. Then the bud is fair game as it is played with. Of course, the peony bushes are also a lot of fun for the two cats to jump into and lay on the cool stems or start a tussle with each other.
Tomorrow morning, when it is fairly cool, I will spray the two peony bushes that are under attack with the product Critter Ridder. The label reports that it smells and tastes awful, with their paws also feeling a reaction.
I do realize that the tubers will be intact for the next year if the buds do not result in beautiful blooms this year. Hopefully, by the 2016 growing season, Butter Ball and Snuggles will be fat lazy cats, lying on the patio, watching birds strut by their noses.
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Noreen
People that tell us they are bored in their homes and are looking for something up in the clubs . . . Dennis and I shake our heads. Nothing says loving than washing off the white siding after a winter of horrific winds that left dust and dirt that ran like muddy rivers down the sides of the home when hit with soapy water. Lots of rinsing and it looks as good as new. The down side is that right now the windows on the house are hard to look through with all the water spots. Did I hurry to start the house windows? No.
I preferred to get the sets of patio doors washed on the garage porch as well as cleaning the carpet. We know where our priorities lie. We spend more time outside, and when we are in the house, it’s dark and time to go to bed. The porch is the perfect spot to take some rocking chair time when a break is called for from the gardening or the mowing of our acre.
That acre did get mowed today. I am the pusher with the front yard. The rider has too large of a swathe and the grass looks uneven. I need to keep my hand in the mowing as it is great exercise for every aspect of the ole body. I will admit that our trimmer is a bit heavy to lug around behind Dennis on the remaining yard. Would I have to do trimming . . . no, but we do enjoy a yard that is tidy.
For all that we enjoy outside, there is no time for boredom . . . thankfulness . . . yes, when we can shower up and sit on the patios and enjoy it all until it is time to do it all over again.
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Noreen
Adustments
A short time back I had posted a fleeting thought about what the world would be like without butter. Now, a bit further down the road, it doesn’t look quite so bleak.
After a medical check up, Dennis’ blood work came back and the Triglyceride level was 566. It is advised to be less than 150 with also a watch over his Hemoglobin, a concern with diabetes. These naughty Triglycerides can contribute to hardening of the arteries, which in turn can cause strokes, heart attacks as well as less-than-good cognizance. What to do? The first thing that needed to be done was taking requests in the kitchen from Dennis as to what he would like to eat and then making a few modifications.
Tough love that won’t hurt either one of us is on the day-to-day plan for Stauffer Avenue. I am just as guilty as Dennis for enjoying comfort food. The first item that is no longer on the table is butter. Man, oh man, it’s a staple on any red-blooded American table. Along with the butter, potatoes, breads and sugars are also to be watched. Dennis wondered what there was left.
There is a whole world of vegetables and fruits that can be enjoyed with just a bit of restraint on the goodies of life. I know without having heard it out loud, that Dennis feels, at age 78, life needs to be enjoyed and not restricted. In a perfect world, I would agree. Due to the “Old Adam” in each of us I have seen how painful day-to-day life can be when we have to live with the reactions of our actions. A note on a trade off: I no longer say anything negative about Dennis’ smoking. That is totally on him.
Now that spring if officially here, I know we will be outside and we will be more active. I also know that there will be road dates that invariably end with a meal out to Perkins. What’s a date without a meal? I just need to phone ahead and have them remove the Chicken Fried Steak with mashed potatoes and gravy from Dennis’ menu options.
We are always a work in progress, and this does need to progress with better numbers for Dennis and for me, before my numbers set off alarms. It is about small adjustments and new habits. It has been stated that new habits need to have the behavior repeated over a six week period. As we plan on being here six weeks from now . . . this will be so worth the time and effort.
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Noreen
Fairfax Tulips
Initially, these red tulips were part of a Valentine’s season. After the original blooms were spent, the bulbs were dried and cared for. There is nothing like the Stauffer Avenue gardening techniques to enjoy these jewels for additional seasons.
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Noreen
Do We Know Our Limits
Do each of us know what our limits are . . . most likely not. While we can recall days gone by, years gone by, we forget what what our bodies tell us on a daily basis. Our minds and our freewill override the signals that our bodies give us. Most recently, it took the additional warnings of me, telling Dennis that his plan of operation for his body was not a good plan.
Perhaps it was the great sunny spring morning that urged Dennis on in his yard work. With permission, we had the neighbor’s fire pit going with twigs and branches. It would be a very tidy yard on Stauffer Avenue. Good grief, we can’t waste a good fire. The loose branches that were hung up in our large Maple tree enticed Dennis to get the step ladder out. The large configuration of limb and small branches that were dangling over the tree swing came down very easily. The next loose branch that had Dennis’ eye was a good five feet higher and would require less than an even landscape for the ladder to sit on.
I encouraged Dennis to leave it until one of the younger Curry grandsons would stop by. Dennis moved his stepladder in position. I repeated my suggestion; I then warned Dennis against the height being more than he could reach with the stepladder not sitting solidly. My next move was to race to the stepladder to hold it steady. I was too late. By the time I got to Dennis he was lying flat, face down with his arms and hands lying flat on the ground above his head.
I can’t tell you what went through my mind as I bent down beside him. He was so still for so long, I couldn’t breath. God willing, the good Lord was not ready to take my ole cowboy home. Dennis did manage to slowly get himself up. Dennis admitted later, that he was afraid to move for fear of what he would feel. He brushed himself off and also brushed aside my query as to his condition. The stepladder seemed to have taken the short end of this tip over . . . until the dawn of the next day.
We are now three days down and it hurts me to see Dennis move in his pain. I can’t say I have ever experience a cracked rib and from what I am observing, I don’t want to. It didn’t take the two of us long to realize this could have been tragically fatal. The area that Dennis fell has large field rock among the perennials as well has metal stakes to mark their location. Talk about the grace of God watching over us when we don’t want to own up to our limits. Dennis is not alone in this. I know myself well enough to know that this incident will live with me and what I do . . . for a long time. With just the closing of my eyes, I can see his still form after the fall.
It has been sunny warm days since Dennis’ fall and what better way to heal wounds than playing it low key, enjoying the patios and letting the kids of Stauffer (Butter Ball and Snuggles) entertain us. Visiting with JC during these days, He let me know that right now He just can’t fit in Dennis and his shenanigans, but He is praying for me. I have said it many times, “Yeah, just gotta love the ole cowboy.”
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Noreen
Fleeting Thoughts:
Just what kind of world would be it without butter?