It’s pouring rain today. We’re expecting a half inch. So, think deluge. But on my way into the house from dropping Geo off at class, I spotted this bloom. The first Cecile Brunner of the year. I climbed into the hedge to snap a photo — and decided to bring this pretty thing inside.
I’m sopping wet, but it was worth it.
Our clematis bloomed early!
Let’s call this the before shot. (I’m digging out this planter so I can add pea gravel.)
I get shutting down. I’ve certainly done it enough in my lifetime. Life gets too busy, or trauma sets in. Or you find yourself at an impasse, on an intractable side up against an equally unmoving mass. And it’s easier to shut down than to compromise. Put your head down, don’t think about it, move on.
It’s poor form in relationships (I’ve certainly been guilty of this far too many times. I have a brother, with a new baby, who hasn’t spoken to me in 3 years. We’re intractable.) and it’s poor form in home maintenance. A look around Chez Wonder, and it’s a wonder it’s still standing.
I think the stress of the bank last year, along with the pitiful monetary situation created the perfect climate for our utter abandonment of all things domestic. The reasoning, “We have no money anyhow,” while fiscally sound at the time, wasn’t a good long term solution. There are times when it doesn’t pay to skimp—last year was probably one of them.
The money situation isn’t better. Nor is the house. We still wait for answers and paperwork. But, entropy, by its very definition, is no homeowner’s friend. If you don’t keep up with these little chores, they become disaterpieces.
So, IZ and I have drafted a list. A list of things that must be done. I suspect part of impetus is the realization that September is encroaching. Creeping up on us, and with it comes a visit from IZ’s parents. Who have never lived in an “this old house” reality. And part of it that we can no longer ignore the unfinished. It’s screaming at us, “HEY YOU… remember us? The projects you started 4 years ago… AHEM!”
Of course, there is no way to pay for said list. But we’re not letting that stop us. A list is such a small weapon against the onslaught entropy has planned for us. Like lambs to the slaughter, you should pray for our souls. And our soles, because I have a feeling our lack of funds is going to mean being creative. And being creative always equals me on my feet with a shovel in hand.
The first bloom from the clematis on the new arbor.
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I didn’t think the Nelly Moser would bloom this year. But one of two we planted earlier this summer did just that this morning and I’m elated with the first bloom.Of course, I dashed straight out to snap a photo—standing in dewey grass in my sandals and noticing that our promised sun has  given way to spit!  But I don’t mind so much. Everything needs water once in awhile! This one bloom is a taste of the future—when the arbor is completely covered with big pink pom-pom blooms.  A girl can dream, right?
As I ran out the door I could hear IZ admonishing, “Quick, quick, take a picture before the deer eat it!” He was kidding, but vermin abound in these parts and they typically  view my yard as their own personal salad bar. Considering the color of the sky, I’d be wise to re-spray with liquid fence.  Otherwise this rain is going to be a neon “Restaurant’s Open” sign to the neighborhood foragers. It’s either that or I need to take up bow and arrow hunting right quick! Yeah, I think I’ll stick to stinky spray gun. But note to self: Rotten egg smell is not an aphrodisiac; spray the flowers not your feet.Â
I should probably make that my new mantra, eh?
Look who I found lurking in my laundry.
On Monday, I promised you photos of our yard endeavors. Â I feel like this week has flown by; and while I have lots to show for it, it still seems to be moving far too quickly. I wish summer knew how to linger, don’t you?Â
Anyhow, here are a few snap shots. It’s all so new, I’m still getting used to the changes. But I wanted to document the starting stages. Something to remember the beginning by, something to slow down the pace. Already my brand new lawn needs a good mowing and  I am discovering that lawns grow too fast. Much like small children.Â
Whoever coined summer “lazy” didn’t have a lawn, or a child.Â
