A Measure of Growth
The summer solstice, that celebration of summer and the longest day of the year, marked my 40th birthday. I had mixed feelings about the day. I did not know whether I should spend it with friends or just with my husband. Visions of vacations with my girlfriends danced through my head. When it comes to milestone birthdays, everyone expects you to do something incredibly special, or at least that’s the perception.
My parents marked the occasion with a gift of growth… TREES! After a brief trip to our local nursery, I confessed a love for the Bald Cypress and Japanese Maple. A few days later, Mom told me I needed to pick out spots for one of each. I was thrilled! Now that we are in our forever home, we can enjoy trees for many years to come. I probably will not see them reach their greatest height, but I will get to see them grow to be majestic. It is a gift of growth and change.
When I look back at the last decade of my life, I can see my own growth as a person, and I wonder what the next decade will bring. I still struggle with trying to please everyone in my life, to fulfill other people’s expectations of me. I am torn between the traditional and unconventional, but I am hoping to work through that conflict. Many people say you settle into your true self during your forties, and I hope that is true.
The primary reason for starting this blog was rediscovering my love of writing. Shortly after I left graduate school, I stopped writing for pleasure. I found myself bogged down in work and focusing on the problems of the day rather than dreaming up stories of another world. I lost my sense of wonder. Writing became something for another day, another life. It was something for when my mind was unfettered, but I realized a few months ago that I cannot keep waiting for another day.
I am sure turning forty influenced my sense of urgency to begin writing again. I know it made me start the Couch to 5k running program. I want to make the most of my life instead of spending my time procrastinating.
The Bald Cypress and Japanese Maple trees will forever mark this turning point in my life. They will remind me of where I began and how far I’ve come. I can only hope I can live up to their strength and majesty and grow along beside them.
The Mosses of Fairyland
Once upon a time, in a town not so far away, I had a lawn nazi neighbor. He scowled about my dandelions and told me how I needed to weed and feed my lawn with chemicals in order to protect his lawn. I gave into the pressure a couple of times, and I tried to be the perfect neighbor with the perfect lawn, but I just never fit into that role. I felt terrible about the chemicals going into the groundwater or worse getting on the paws of passing-by animals. I tried using special instruments to extract lawn weeds, but that process just wore me out. In the end, I adopted my Mom’s view of lawn maintenance: a mowed lawn looks great even if it’s filled with weeds. I just made sure we kept the lawn mowed or at least tried to be beat the dandelions from getting too tall and flowery.
Though I do not aspire to lawn perfection, I do have a dream for my lawn. I want my lawn to be nothing but moss. Not only would I save a fortune in gasoline for the lawn mower, but my yard would look lush all the time. Thick carpets of moss would coat the ground, the trees, brick pathways, and stone statues. It would choke out the ever-present dandelions. It would feel soft under my feet. No one would criticize the height of my lawn. I wouldn’t have to worry about scowling neighbors or ticks hanging around in tall grasses.
With a moss lawn, I really could imagine that I live in Rivendell, Ferngully, or Endor. Scratch Endor! I don’t want to live with Ewoks. My lawn would be a magical place, and my home would be the center of a magical world. I guess that would mean that I’d need to clean my house. Oh well, all fairy tales have dark sides. Still, I dream of a moss lawn.
Looking around online, I noticed that moss has the reputation for being a weed. The term weed is not always a negative thing. It just speaks to the invasive nature of the plant. I like that moss can be invasive. That gives me hope! My front lawn already has lush moss mixed with grass in the shady areas. I am hopeful I can encourage the moss to spread.
I stumbled across an article on Southern Living’s website about growing a moss lawn. I’m definitely tucking that away as a reference. I do have a lot of shady parts in my yard, and I have areas where grass doesn’t grow readily. I am concerned about moss’s need for lots of moisture, but the moss I do have seems happy so maybe there’s enough moisture to work on expanding mossy patches.
Maybe one day, I will walk into my yard, and Lord Elrond will walk toward me, saying “Welcome to Rivendell.” It’s a nice dream. Yards are filled with dreams.
Caught by Surprise
Spring catches me by surprise. I don’t know how it happens every year, but it does. I’m always certain that I have a few more weeks before yard work begins full force, and then smack, here’s spring!
Last year, spring came about a month early. That was a legitimate surprise. This year, winter seemed to drag on and on. I was salivating for spring. The thoughts of warmer days, growing grass, and garden planning filled my thoughts, but even with such great anticipation, spring still caught me off guard. We had snow on the ground one day and summer temperatures a couple of days later. Amazing!
I have anticipated starting this blog. I bought the domain this time last year and procrastinated through the summer, fall, and winter. It’s something I have always wanted to do, but I kept finding reasons to put it off…too busy, too tired, not inspired, a hangnail, etc. My goal was to launch right before spring really hit, but I delayed a bit at the start. Anyway, I am here!
During the past couple of weeks, I did manage to catch up to spring a bit. I have managed to shake off the winter cobwebs…both literally and figuratively.
Three weekends ago, I picked up sticks in my front yard, which seemed to take forever. In fact, during that time I was picking up sticks, I fantasized about big machines with claws scooping down and picking up the twigs, sticks, branches, tree trunks. I imagined that I wouldn’t mind having unattractive machines in the yard as long as I never had to pick up sticks again. I also thought about making an 80’s-style workout video. I could wear a shiny leotard, a terrycloth headband, and leg warmers…oh and frosty pink lipstick! I could jump in place and then stretch down to grab a bunch of sticks, informing the world about this awesome tummy toning workout. In reality, I got worn out after loading the wheel barrow four times, felt dizzy and sick, cast myself on the couch in my den, watched a bunch of episodes of Call the Midwife, and picked up KFC for dinner. I didn’t finish picking up sticks in the front yard that day, and they mocked me the rest of the week every time I came home from work.
Two weekends ago, I hand-pulled weeds in my veggie garden. Though the Mantis tiller arrived a few days earlier, I knew I couldn’t just till the weeds and feel good about it. The ground was tight with weeds of all sorts. As I pulled the weeds, I thought about them as problems that needed to be resolved. Each pulled weed was one more resolved problem, but every time I looked up, the problems seemed to multiply. I decided to change my perspective. Each weed became a zombie I must kill. Then, I got distracted with “pretty” weeds. I had so many violets, and they didn’t look ugly. I almost convinced myself that they could stay. In the end, I decided to pull enough weeds to be good enough. The tiller could do the rest!
This past weekend, I busted out the tiller for the first time. I had never used a tiller in my life. Earlier this spring, my Mom (who’s also my neighbor) and I bought a Mantis together. In my dreams, I could just unleash it on the veggie garden and let it do all the work. Though it did make working up the soil easier, I had no idea it would involve that much work. My arms hurt today! The good news is that the garden is tilled, and I planted some seeds despite the better advice of the seed packets. The risk of frost in this area does not pass until after Derby Day. I’m living dangerously! I hope the summer squash, bibb lettuce, green onions, and bush beans survive and thrive.