I found this juxtaposition amusing. What kind of dreams are they building?
Gardening: Year Five
I’m not exactly Jerry Baker when it comes to gardening. I tend to be a passive gardener, rather than one who waters daily and feeds periodically. I’ve killed more plants than I’ve successfully tended over the past five years as a homeowner.
I’m finally starting to realize that bulbs and rhizomes are definite winners for me, as I can pretty much “set it and forget it.” Three years ago, I planted some miniature daffodils that Sheryl gave me for my birthday, and they’ve survived, albeit weakly. Two years ago, I planted some daylilies from my co-worker, Scott, and they’re easily the strongest and healthiest plants in my yard. Finally, last fall, I planted a lily and a few bulbs (daffodils and tulips, I think) by the mailbox, and they seem to be sprouting up just fine.
I’ve tried my hand at supposedly “invasive” plants, too, like catnip. It’s supposed to spread and self-sow like a mofo, but it hasn’t, really. The first year, I started the catnip indoors and then planted it outside, and I harvested a sandwich bag full of Kitty Herb, leaving several plants to go to seed. Last year was the second year of the catnip, and only a few plants came up, so I only harvested a few sprigs, leaving most to go to seed. So far this year, I see just two little catnip plants sprouting up, and I doubt the harvest will be very plentiful.
The newcomers to the yard this year will be the grape hyacinth I bought to add color to my desk at work. It may end up being friends with the miniature daffodils, or I may plant it under another tree in the front yard.
Oh, and I’m also planning a resurgence of annuals this year — specifically, impatiens, which seemed to thrive well enough in the dry shade under the overhang in front of our split-level house. (Nothing else ever did.) I may see how hostas fare there, too. But nothing will be planted until mid-May, after we return from our vacation. Never again am I leaving new baby plants to the mercy of the elements while I’m out of town. Not even for a long weekend.
I have a large container of lilies of the valley, also from Scott; I had planted them under said overhang when he first gave them to me, but they didn’t do well, so I rescued them and transplanted them. I’ve had them for a few years now, and I keep meaning to bring them inside during the winter… but I forget and leave them out all winter long. Last year, I still had a few left. We’ll see how many I have left this year. Maybe I’ll find an appropriate permanent home for them this year. I have a few ideas.
Someday I’ll have a decently landscaped and colorful yard. Until then, I’ll just see what works.
Spring Challenge, Week #2
James is kicking that ass, and is down 1.6% from his Spring starting weight.
I, on the other hand, am 1½ pounds up from my Spring starting weight. I ate poorly during my weekend Aikido seminar, on top of having sore and swollen muscles, so my weight shot up drastically. Then, as I was finally starting to drop the excess weight mid-week, I got a cold — the kind of cold that, at the beginning (while my nose still worked properly), made me just want to curl up on the couch under a blankie and eat mac & cheese while watching TV.
Where’s my motivation?
Continue reading
links for 2008-04-03
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“If my dog was dying of cancer… I’m required to take him to the doctor who immediately gives him what I’m asking for here.”
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“He obviously sensed the baby roo was still alive in the pouch and somehow had gently grabbed it by the neck, gently retrieved it and brought it to me.” via Dooce.com.
Butt In Chair
I like to write, but I am not a writer.
I have several unfinished stories of various scopes and degrees of completion sitting in the Writing folder on my computer — a dozen short stories, two potential novella-length works (19,500 words and 10,100 words so far, respectively), and one completed piece of short fiction that I wrote seven years ago, trite and utterly predictable though it may be. (I believe it was Ray Bradbury who said that a writer’s first million words are just for practice.)
I’d like to try my hand at short fiction, especially since I don’t seem to have the mental stamina to stick with a novel-length work long enough to finish it. (I’d love to know how both of my books end! I’d love nothing more than to pick one of them up at a Barnes & Noble and thumb through it in one of the comfy chairs in a corner, learning about my characters and their worlds… but that’s not how it works.) Short fiction, though… that takes a certain amount of wit. Savvy. Planning. All of which will take some time to develop.
Unfortunately, the base issue I have with my writing is the same base issue I have with my Zen practice. Call it Butt In Chair, call it Tush To The Cushion, or (in photography parlance) call it f/8 And Be There. It all boils down to just doing something. Do something, and keep doing it until you get better at it.
Until I get better at it.
