Category Archives: house

house

Weekend Projects

As Amy had to cancel our weekend of girlie giggles due to Grandma’s gallstones, Aaron and I opted to make use of the weekend to take care of some much-needed home improvement projects. More maintenance than improvement, actually.

First on the list: fertilize the lawn. It was very necessary. Our yard looks like poo, due to a.) the lack of proper lawn care by the previous homeowner, and b.) the giant field of weeds across the street from our house. The back yard also has vast bare patches, but that is a problem to address another day—say, in the Fall.
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house, photos

One Year Ago

As Erk reminded me a few days ago, Aaron and I moved into our house exactly one year ago Monday.

I still wish I’d kept the digital camera handy during the move, so I could have taken pictures of the perfectly-packed 24-foot giant U-Haul, or the inside of our empty apartment, or the all-volunteer moving crew at their complimentary Easystreet lunch.

I do have some other pictures of interest, though:


Our house, at inspection time (February 2004)


The aftermath of getting the U-Haul stuck in the mud across the street from our new house


Our living room, after we got the furniture in place, one year before we got the widescreen TV

So, yeah. Happy one year in the house to us! (Only 29 more years of house payments to go…)

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Communing With Nature

Today, I decided to go outside and enjoy the fall weather by reading at the picnic table for a while during my lunch break. While I was sitting there, engrossed by The Stand, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over—and there was a squirrel. On the bench. With a nut in his mouth. Looking at me. We just sat there, looking at each other, for a long moment before he finally decided to go bury his nut somewhere.

And more nature stuff… instead of turning on the computer immediately after dinner and the news this evening, I ended up moving my near-dead Mums from the front yard to the back yard and planting my Roses of Sharon into individual pots. I had nine Roses of Sharon (aka Althea) all together, although two of them had rooted together so closely that I just potted them together. Most have fairly decent root systems—say, the size of a golf ball with random tendrils—but one had a nice softball-sized rootball, and one was surviving on a single solitary root strand. I have eight pots in all: two I left outside to brave the winter, one I put in the kitchen, and five are in the library/media room upstairs. Hopefully the cat won’t knock them over like she did my damn begonia.

After I got done potting, I got a hair up my ass to organize the boxes we have in the garage. Now it doesn’t look quite as ghetto… but it’s still pretty ghetto. I mean, our shelves of gardening supplies are the orange and blue milk crates that were once my bookshelves in college. Our lawn chairs are sitting on top of the old-school mower. There are packing peanuts on the floor. But now, at least, there aren’t quite as many empty boxes sitting in the back of the garage.

gardening

Gardening, Take Two

When we moved into our house over six months ago, I had grand dreams of outdoor gardens and flowering nooks and crannies everywhere. I fantasized about a back garden that would make all who saw it envious of my mad gardening skillz. Back in early May, when I first began this undertaking, I had said:

I have planned: lavender, hydrangea, coral roses, yellow roses, ground cover in front of said roses, a rose of sharon, forsythia, catmint, more lavender, and butterfly bush. In front there, on the curve where there’s still a bit of dirt with no plants, that’s where the herbs go. Three varieties of basil, parsley, catnip, creeping thyme, coriander/cilantro, and whatever else tickles my fancy.

Alas, the only plants still thriving from my $100 Gardenland shopping spree (which did not include all of the above) are an out-of-control basil plant that’s nearly knee-high, three double impatiens, and my rosebush. The lavender’s trying to die on me, the cilantro and sage are long gone, as are the dwarf hydrangeas, and the pearlwort has shriveled into little brown flowerless carpets. No, this is not the onset of Autumn—this is my utter neglect and my poor landscape planning.

I feel like our back yard is some bizarre cross between a blank canvas and a complex logic problem. Now that I know where things grow and where they don’t, I have a better idea of what could go where. Instead of planting a giant flower garden by the house, under the heavy shade of the maple tree, perhaps some packed gravel and a picnic table would go better. Maybe some small flowering ground cover would go well by the back door, where that almost-back-step courtesy slab sits. You know, the I-don’t-have-a-back-porch square of concrete? Next to that thing, on either side. And perhaps a good place for a flower garden would be in the corner where we just planted grass—but just around the corner there, in a little curve, instead of a giant block of flowery insanity.

As for the front, under the overhang of our tri-level house, God only knows what will finally live there. Something that can stand drought and shade (since I frequently forget to water my outdoor plants). The impatiens did fairly well; but they’re only annuals, and I have a problem with buying the same damn plants every year.

First, though, maybe we ought to think about de-thatching and fertilizing and weeding and overseeding our lawn. It needs some serious work. Then we can build from there.