Mother's Day Weekend so far........

My daughter is here for the weekend.  Yes, The Beautiful Redhead herself is in the HOUSE!

So far, only myself and My Oldest Baby have showered, the Overnight Creme Brulee French Toast is ready and waiting in the fridge, and My Oldest Baby has warmed up something called Buffalo Wings Pepperoni Rolls for breakfast, because he just can't wait.

I have my favorite old T shirt and a pair of the boys' old shorts on, with an ELASTIC band, that's right.  I did not shave my legs, either.  We are planning some shenanigans, good meals, working on the flower beds, and general lazy laying around.

We are also going through old pictures and trying to get them somehow scanned into a place I can download them with my limited technical "skillz".

I have no idea when that might be coming.  You know me.  *shrugs*

and in other news, the devil's members continue to rise.  I tend to think they are probably poisonous.  Ugh.

The stump with the transplanted Lambshire around it and an unwelcome guest rearing it's ugly head.  The first one wilted.  You can see the remains at the 4 o'clock position in this picture.

Get thee behind me, satan.  Is that an insult to poisonous mushrooms?  I'm not even sure.........

Treasures and Terrors.......

A few things...........

You know the saying about how "a watched pot never boils"?  True, also, with seeds.  I have placed the Sweet Pea along the fence, where it holds it's own but is not twining up the fence yet.  When The Beautiful Redhead was about 3, I called her "sweet pea" one evening and she looked at me very seriously, then wrinkled her adorable little brow and asked "Did you just call me sweet pee?  Thus began her floral and faunal education.

The Four O'Clock's have been springing forth and the Astors have their heads above aground, but there they just sit.  I clipped back some Panseys to make them bush out.  The Lavendar, well, I don't even want to talk about the Lavendar.  It's apparently not my thing.  Yet.  In fact, I am a little bit mad at Lavendar and sorely disppointed in my Lavendar specifically.  It could not care any less.  Oh, well.  Same goes for the Lily of the Valley, although I continue to watch hopefully, fool that I am.  How it can be so hard to get something that will take over started is, at present, the great mystery of my life.  Which reminds me, I have a very good life.

Digging around in the dirt of an old stump that I am going to plant Lambshire all around, I found this.

It about scared me to death, and, call me what you will, my first thought was "devil's, ahem, member".  I don't know if it's supposed to be a mushroom or if it's some kind of fungus or what, but I left it alone to find out.  Because I like to live without a safety net, I guess.  And I also am contemplating what my first thought reveals about the way my mind works, but that is another post, my dears. Anyway, if you know what this is, let me know.  My nightmares will thank you.

As if to make up for it, this afternoon I found this.  I just bent down to pull up a thistle and there it was, waiting for me.

This took me back to what seems, in retrospect, to have been many afternoons spent with my mother on a blanket in the yard.  I cannot be sure if we did that kind of thing all the time or I just remember the one time we found a four leaf clover.  Either way, my mother carried that four leaf clover in her wallet till the end of her days on earth.  It brought her back to me in a way that is becoming quite familiar.  When I planted the Morning Glory seeds along the fence she was with me.  I clearly remember the first time she planted them, and how excited she was when they came up, and it happened down here.

Part of her legacy to me is the fact that I am putting in lots of flowers, both perrenial and wild.  She loved the wildflowers, as I do, and I have spent many days recently slowly walking through my yard and transplanting the great variety into the beds.  Wild Phlox, Daiseys, Bachelor's Buttons, and Four O'Clocks will line the driveway and house. 

 Iris will bloom along the ditch in front on the street.  Just about any kind of flower you can imagine that grows wild will make bigger and bigger beds until there is hopefully little left to mow.

At least, that is my plan.  Next year, just more.  Maybe move 'em around a bit, but basically just let nature take over.  I plan to just pull it out and give other people starts every year.

Also available is plenty of ground cover, in the form of vines, including Trumpet Vine galore.  I planted a couple of Willow trees, along with Honeysuckle and a Wasillia Bush from Janine.  I don't know if I spelled that right but either I did or spellcheck doesn't know the difference either.  This is what the world has come to.

We will see what happens.  Despite the appearance of the Devil's member, we will just focus on the four leaf clover.

Rain!!!

We are getting a rainy but warm week here.

The flowers are making good progress.

The seeds are coming up!

I always plant my seeds for flowers during the waxing moon.

These were planted during the last quarter before it was full.

Plants that make their treasures below the ground should be planted after the full moon, when the moon is waning.

I broke my own rule about throwing money away on annuals and went crazy and bought some Dianthus.

I can't resist Dianthus.

I added them in front of the basket.

I put a Christmas tree stand to use as a pot for some Lobelia.

Lobelia is also an annual but I love it even more than Dianthus and I got a packet of seed for 20 cents.

I don't even count that as throwing money away.

What's 20 cents in this world?

I just flipped the stand upside down and there it was.

I think the blooms of Lobelia all around that dark green circle will be very pretty.

Here is a picture if you are unfamiliar with Lobelia.

It's one of my favorites.

The pot full of violets is also doing well, so far, with the diaper in the bottom to try to save some water.

This could be due to the cloudy weather and frequent rain showers though.

The jury is still out on using the diaper in the bottom of the pot.

I think maybe it would have been better if I would have lined the bottom of the pot with clay before adding the diaper.

We will see.

Perhaps it was the phase of the moon that made the dogs dig a huge hole in the back yard.  They have always dug holes but have seldom shown any focus or dedication.

This time they dug the prettiest hole, about a foot deep and at least 15 inches wide, that I had ever seen.

Just one.

So I possibly threw away $4.97 on a rose bush and threw it in there.

It's a pink Tea Rose and seems to be doing quite well so far.  

This rainy week will help and then it will have full sun.

I hope it lives.

I may have to get it a trellis. 

The package didn't say it was a climber so I guess we will have to wait and see.

Diaper Obsessed Woman Spotted Again......

This has been a very high energy week for me.  I'm just about exhausted.  It's been supposed to rain since Tuesday, I've been frantically planting seeds and transplanting plants, and everything is ready for a good rain that has yet to show up.  Every night my hands are dirty and I have to soak in the tub to get the dirt out from under my fingernails.  It's been a great spring!

I grabbed another diaper and put it in the bottom of the pot hanging above the basket of bulbs.  The diaper went on the bottom with all the tab parts folded under.  Then it got filled with water.  To bursting.  I don't even think anybody saw me.  That's what I love so much about this place.  No one is ever out, and if they are, they are doing something that has their complete attention.  Adults!  So refreshing!

I tore off the top liner of the diaper, put in some potting soil, and then threw some white violets that were growing in the yard and had been dug up with a spoon by yours truly.  Is there anything prettier than a basket of white violets in the spring?  I think not.  

I think it will work.  If it doesn't and the violets die there are more in the yard.  If they live I will put them closer to the house where the grass hasn't taken over yet and I plan to hold it at bay forever.  The less I have to mow, the better life will be for me.  Then I can pick something that I usually would not put in this basket because it always dried out so bad.  All because of a diaper.  Pause a moment and contemplate the impact this invention has had on our world.  It's kind of momentous.

So far I have one corner of a vast yard done.  It's gonna be a long summer but that's where the wild flowers come in.  I have Morning Glory and Honeysuckle planted all along the fence in back and the front porch.  You can't lose with those two in Southern Missouri.

Plus there is all manner of climbing vines that is really good ground cover everywhere.  I threw in some of that, too.

There are pots of Lavender, Sweet Peas, Lily of the Valley, Asters, and other wild flowers germinating at this moment in the barrels.  They do not need water, either, thanks to the diaper trick.

.

I also threw down, and I do literally mean that, seeds for Poppies, Bachelor Buttons, Four O'Clocks, Daisys, and only God himself knows what else.  There should be wild flowers and lavender all in front where the shrubs were.

I filled in a little in the front with some Irises that Janine, the heavenly neighbor, having an even more high energy week than myself, had dug up.  She had apparently experienced a fit of what I like to call "spring cleaning" when it happens to me, and it occurred to her that she was tired of "keeping all this up".  So there was a whole barrel of Irises that were old and all tangled up and I had to save them.  IF I didn't, she was going to throw them away!  Ock!!  That woman could run the entire world.  We should clone her.  The strips in the picture below are those long roll-out fabric strips are supposedly full of seeds.  We'll see.

It looks kind of rough but if it ever rains we should see quite a display in a month or so.  Or not.  If it lives, it lives.  If it doesn't, it doesn't.  This is just life and seems to be easier and easier for me to accept as each year passes.  It's quite a relief, I must say.  This being old thing is all right with me so far.

That's also my handy-dandy little "roller alonger", passed down from my dear mother, who spent many happy days with her rear end planted on that little wagon, bringing forth life from dirt.  As does her daughter.  It is probably called a garden wagon or some more logical name.  Whatever it is called, you should get one.  You will never get stuck on the ground unable to get up with this.  Your knees will thank you.  *sagely nods*  The top lifts up so you can store your gloves, your trowels, your bug spray, whatever you like to keep with you.  And it even has 2 cup holders on top.  Did you know that is the #1 thing women google when researching new cars?  It is.  And whoever marketed this baby knew it.  I give them a solid A.

The lilacs exploded as predicted, and the air has never smelled so good.  Just look at all these blooms.  Impressive and welcome!

That reminds me.  I forgot to get gas for the mower.  It's outside time at my house.  Oh well, I don't have to worry about that right now.  Now it's time for another long soak in the tub.  Whatever tomorrow holds will be here before I know it.

Preparing The Soil.........

I had a day last week where I thought about being 50, putting in flower seeds, and doing things right.
People will forgive a young person practically anything, but once you are 50 you are in a more responsible category.
To my way of thinking.
I can't be just sprinkling seeds on the ground and then being disappointed when things don't turn out right, anymore.
I think.
Anyway, the electric land of Pinterest has shown me some solutions for the errors of my usual ways, and in a fit of efficiency, I 'prepared the soil'.
Yes.  I did that.  I really, really did.
I drug out my barrels.
I raked some leaves that I had been too tired to deal with last fall into the bottoms, so that all my water won't just run out the holes.
I admired the new grass coming up under where those leaves have lain for 6 months.
I put bags of potting soil (the cheapest I could find.  It's dirt, after all, people) over the leaves.
I realized I had to go vote.  I went to vote, voted, and spent the better part of an hour visiting with the ladies. 
I pressed on to the glorious Dollar General, and I purchased, for $6.50, 31 Medium baby diapers.  Which I enjoyed.  I miss those days.  Again, the cheapest I could find.
Why?  
Because I was going to fill them to bursting with water and then mix the gel within into my potting soil so that my dirt would stay more moist.
Then my seeds would come up and I would have so many successes I would be able to transplant many varieties of beautiful perennials all over hell and creation  my new yard.
And never have to bother with this kind of thing again except for maybe with vegetables.
Of course with vegetables.  They're next.  But I don't have to worry about that on this day.  See how I am focused now?  Staying on track?  It's a whole new side of me. The 50 year old side.  So far, I gotta say I like it.

So, while the people of the villages voted and visited, and the farmer of the cows across the road spread manure on his fields, I laid out 24 cute, powdery smelling diapers on top of potting soil in barrel halves on the south side of my house, which is the optimum sunnage spot.
As any adult lady who knew what she was doing would.  Ahem.
I will tell you that I sorely wished I had a person with a baby close because I could have just asked them for some gently used diapers and not had to buy any.  It takes a lot more than some innocent baby pee to make me bat an eye these days.
However, it was such an intimate and strange thing to ask people who do not know me and may understandably think I was a stark raving lunatic that I opted to just buy new.  I may be honest, but I'm not stupid.  Sometimes that is a very fine line to dance on.
But it was kind of a waste.  Anyway.

While the farmer hurt his neck trying to figure out what in God's name I was doing with so many diapers and no children in sight, and the manure flew all over the field for a great crop of hay, I drug out the garden hose.  This hose was new, a thoughtful birthday gift from my brother and SIL, you know, Superman and Wonder Woman, which is 100 feet long because I'm too old to mess around with anything less these days.  I ain't got all day and this hose will cover everything I need to be responsible for and then some.  

Imagine the farmer's  surprise when I started "watering" the diapers.  I Filled 24 diapers, laid out in neat rows, with water, at a slow rate. It took about 45 minutes and I went over them 4 or 5 times till they absorbed a lot of water and were near to bursting.
Pretty sure it was the dangedest thing that farmer probably ever saw.  But maybe his wife is on Pinterest too.  You never know anymore.

Once filled to nearly bursting, and those diapers will hold a LOT of water, my people, I tore off the top lining.  Tore it off and turned the diaper upside down and inside out, and all that gel came off in nice clumps.
I think it would have held more water, too, but it doesn't matter.
We had rain coming within 2 days.
With any luck, (and who needs luck, now that I'm 50 and do things right?) a lot of that rain will be retained in the gel particles in this dirt and all the seeds will sprout 2 feet overnight.
There is no harm in dreaming.
That's the truth you know:  You are never too old for dreaming.
I should make a plaque with that on it, actually.
Or you could, and send it to me.
Either way.

This is my finished product.  The soil is prepared. The soil is prepared the correct way, with thought and time and seeds.  I did this the right way, at the right time, because I am really an adult now.

It also floated through my mind that I will try a diaper in the bottom of my round hanging basket.  The one with the moss that always dries out so badly.  I'm just going to trim the white parts of the diaper off and have that in the bottom to hold water. *just a genius idea I am throwing out there to you, my friends, because I know you love those pots too, and I also know everything you put in them usually dies.  Older women know these things.*

In my world, life after 50 is lived with more thought, planning, and patience.  With, dare I say it, a plan.  

I think it's the exhaustion that does it, really.  Well, that and the never sleeping much.  Let me just tell you now, these are a very powerful combination.  If you think you can fight it, I won't argue with you.  I fought it too.  I did not win that fight.  I became exhausted instead.  Good luck to you  though.

Finally, I find myself simply too tired not to make, and follow a plan.  
Because I do not have time, or energy, to make 2 plans.  
I know this because this is what I have done up till now.  
Where do you think the exhaustion came from?? 
Nay, now I stick with one plan.  
One plan that will work.  
Because I wasn't born yesterday.
What a relief that is.  
Truly, I thought it would be much, much worse.

I'm baa-aack

With warmer temperatures (sometimes), we have moved outside and been working on the yard.  Specifically raking and burning leaves and whatever the dogs have reduced to small foreign objects.  Mostly limbs out of trees.  The other night the wind was blowing pretty hard and blew a pretty big limb out of a Pin Oak. The dogs ran over joyously, treating that limb like the gift from God it probably was, and reduced it into about 9 smaller twigs within 40 minutes.  Really.  For this reason I have also been playing a lot of Pick Up Sticks.  I have reduced my love handles to the point of being able to get my pants buttoned again.    YES!  Not that I really mind being bigger, but I can't afford new jeans AND gas, so I had to make a decision.  I decided, as is my habit on High Energy Days, to HIT IT!  After a couple of days spent picking up sticks in my yard, my body now feels like Arnold Schwarzenegger's looked like in the 80's (note the emphasis on the feels  and the absence of the word "looks"). 

THIS IS WONDERFUL!! 

It was starting to really get to me, and just when we can no longer wear sweaters.  I hate it when that happens. 

I have stopped making my way steadily through bags of candy, at least temporarily.  One thing that I should mention, and this is a safety warning:  Do not buy Crystal Light hard candy.  Thinking this would save on calories, I bought a bag of them.  These candies have 1/2 of what looks like meant to be a hole like a Life Saver, but the hole only goes half way. 
Listen to me when I say that this CAN cause the candy, when you suck on it, to adhere to the roof of your mouth in a manner that feels pretty danged permanent, necessitating you to use your finger to try to break the suction, directly after which the candy will zing to the back of your throat, choking you in an embarrassing manner, should you be unfortunate enough to be in a public place.  Maybe even if you are alone in the privacy of your own home.   I was at work, and I hate to admit it, but this happened to me several times.  It seemed such a waste not to eat it when I already had them right there.  So, for what it's worth, beware the Crystal Light hard candy.

In other news, I have had to have a conversation with my youngest baby that included the phrase "No, dear, you cannot start dating when you are 13 years old."  I am baffled as to why in the world I would have to say that.  If you were thinking the world has gone crazy, I can only say that I think you would be correct.  I also would like to note the big sigh of relief from my oldest baby after I uttered this phrase, followed by the words "Why can't all parents be as strict as you?"

Yes.

I swear it is the truth.  The odds of a child expressing appreciation for the strictness of a parent, at 13 no less, are infinitely small.  I am going to have to remember it for a very long time and so have now documented that it does happen. 

Who says God doesn't answer prayers????

My only reply was "I have no earthly idea, honey, but all I have in this world that means anything to me is you kids, and you are not going down the wrong path on my watch", said with a smile and a pat on his leg as we drove down the road.  It was nothing but the honest truth, and I have the feeling we will be coming back to that conversation again, perhaps several times.  I won't go into what else I said but it involved anatomically correct words and my two babies begging me to stop. 

It went as well as can be expected. 

Any parent worth their salt is relentless.  Believe it, know it, live it.