Purple petunias in terra cotta pot as seen in humid, hazy light. No filter involved. Photo taken mid-morning.
With a hat tip to Jimi Hendrix, I’d like to share with you, my gentle readers, that this has not been a wonderful spring. This makes me sad because I love late spring.
It’s my second favorite time of year. Oh yes it is.
However this year, to continue quoting Jimi, “Lately things they don’t seem the same, Acting funny, but I don’t know why.”
Which is me alluding to the fact that all it does around here is rain.
Overwatered pots of formerly beautiful geraniums and petunias, now looking like death warmed over.
Pots of herbs so wet they are existing in a weird soggy stasis, looking pathetic.
Sad basil.
In the parlance of ye olde weather forecasters who claim to know why we’ve had this excessive, soul-sucking rain: there’ve been “numerous ripples of energy” that have brought more rain showers and thunderstorms to the region than are normal.
Uh huh. That’s nice.
However, be that as it may, while the rain continues unabated I’ll just contemplate “am I happy or in misery” while I’m stuck inside the house today in my own version of a caffeinated, irritable, non-psychedelic purple gray haze.
Me happy. NOT.
Stone steps down to terrace as seen in humid, hazy light. Again, no filter involved. Photo taken mid-morning.
Last week was a troublesome one for me. It was rascally and I got scattered and I lost focus on my one word of the year, streamlined.
I had dreams of getting it together last week, doing the things on my to-do list in a smooth and centered way like the organized lady of the list I long to be. But the Universe scoffed and instead, beleaguered by annoying things, I was distracted me from my true purpose.
THE WHINING PART
Nothing bad happened, only small RIDICULOUS annoying things happened that began to slow me down and wear on my very last nerve. Here is a list of those annoying things:
• tornado warning with winds gusting to 60 mph that took down a piece of our house’s gutter;
• smoke detector battery went chirpy during the day when I was here by myself, without anyone to spot me to climb on a ladder to change the battery, so the smoke detector sang all stinking day;
• the water department turned off the water to this subdivision because of a nearby traffic accident, thus in one day our water was off for 6 hours, on for 2 hours, then off again for 4 hours;
• landscape crew arrived without advance warning to do spring cleanup, then piled mulch in such a way as to trap my car inside the garage;
• laundry service lost one of Z-D’s shirts and told me such when the delivery man came to the front door, handed me the laundered unlost shirts and asked me if I could tell him which shirt was missing… as if I pay any attention to Z-D’s extensive collection of mostly white or pale blue button-down Oxford cloth dress shirts; and finally
• doorbell got stuck on meaning that the button, after being pushed in, connected with the bell box that rang its melodious ding, then the bell box started to buzz… loudly and ceaselessly… until I got a screwdriver and dismantled the doorbell separating the wires to make the stupid thing be quiet.
AND IN CONCLUSION
Pretty hot pink geranium harbinger of better days.
At this point, if I were an inspirational sort of blogger, I’d share with you a pithy lesson, succinctly put, so that you might learn from my experiences too and say to yourselves: what a wise Bean is Ally for sharing her troubles here and showing us, through her example, how to live better lives.
However, I’ve no such conclusion to this post.
Other than to say, I guess, it’s rather empowering to acknowledge setbacks, complain about them, then get over your sorry self while you carry on with another week as if you’ve got it all together.
I understand how he feels. April is difficult for me, too, Mr. Bird. I’m allergic to the pollen and mold that is everywhere outside this month. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember.
Not a fan of this month. Don’t sign me up to be on Team April.
There’s nothing for me to do except complain take allergy meds that make me drowsy and wait for the rain to clear the pollen and mold from the air.
I mean I’m out and about living my life because I’m a conscientious woman who said she’d do the things. But I’m doing the things with tissues in pocket, eye drops in handbag, forced pleasant attitude on display.
As if I think April is dandy.
QuestionS of the Day
What’s happening where you live? Are you sneezing and wheezing? Or are you happy and healthy, unbothered by pollen and mold? Tell me your deal, ok?
Snoopy, my spirit animal, sitting with a room thermometer on top of a bookcase in the only sort of warm room in the house.
IT SNOWED LAST NIGHT, not much, but a definite covering of the white stuff. That however is not exactly why I’m cold today. Nope, the reason, to put it succinctly, is that it’s 54ºF… INSIDE the house.
Thus I am huddled in our home office with the French doors tightly shut, sporting a ruana over my flannel + fleece jammies, sitting in front of my desktop computer with the little electric heater swaying to and fro behind me.
What has happened? WELL I’M GLAD YOU ASKED.
You see, yesterday was the last day of February, a short month of days that are soul-crushingly long. A month that should never be trusted.
However, in the morning while waiting for the furnace service tech to get here for our annual check-up, I indulged in a moment of unbridled positivity. Yes, I forgot myself and sighed a happy sigh of joy about making it to the beginning of March unscathed by February’s negativity.
I mean all that was left on my calendar for February was for the furnace to be serviced and then I had March, the action verb month, calling to me.
I like March.
• • •
WELP, I WAS WRONG to let down my guard regarding February, and by 3:00 p.m. our furnace had gone clunk. Come to find out there is a breach in the heat exchanger at the 3rd and 4th cell of the primary, meaning that the whole system as been red-tagged and shut down… by law.
Also, the tech guy accidentally broke a switch which turns the gas on and off.
So, you know, WE GOT TROUBLE.
The cutest little electric room heater that ever was.
Hence I am sitting here this morning, the first day of March, waiting for a phone call from the furnace repair company to tell me IF they have the parts we need & WHEN they might be able to get here again to fix the furnace.
If there is a moral to this story it would be something like never count your chickens before they hatch, but my moral would involve swearing, muttering, and not just a little bit of self-pity because honestly, February is the SUCKIEST of all months.
Today I’m joining Thursday Doors, hosted by Norm Frampton, so that I can share with you photos of the following doors plus a little more.
On a sunny winter’s day we went to Rowe Woods which is part of the Cincinnati Nature Center. Within Rowe Woods is Krippendorf Lodge.
Built in 1898-1900 and originally owned by Carl & Mary Krippendorf, this large home is on the National Register of Historic Places. Krippendorf Lodge sits on 175-acres of wooded land that was once called Karlsruhe Gardens [meaning Carl’s Place of Peace], but is now called Lob’s Wood [I know not why].
Today Krippendorf Lodge is an event venue, available year-round for rent. From the outside the building itself appears to be in perfect condition, as are the adjacent outbuildings that include a unique water tower.
I was unable to get a good pic of the front doors to Krippendorf Lodge, but I took a few other door photos while wandering around + a few artsy-fartsy photos for perspective.
Have your read the interview with Rita Moreno in which she says “tough darts” in response to a question about how intimidating her presence might be at a rehearsal of West Side Story? [Read here.]
I like this woman and immediately adopted TOUGH DARTS as my newest favorite way of saying: oh well, get over yourself, whatever. It’s an old-fashioned version of “too bad, so sad” which is another one of my favorite sayings.
Anyhow, here’s the story.
On Saturday the sky was gloriously clear and I decided that we needed to go to a popular county park on the other side of nowhere from us. We hadn’t been there in years and I remembered it as being a lovely tranquil place to walk while enjoying ducks on the lake.
And who doesn’t like watching some ducks do ducky things while you’re outside for a healthful walk?
Well, we found the park, but as we drove into the parking lot we were surprised by how few cars were around. Beautiful day… warmer temps… Saturday afternoon… THIS DIDN’T MAKE SENSE. Where were the people?
Come to find out after our Polar Vortex week the temperatures had gotten warm enough to create flash flooding that had left much of this park submerged under water. When we set out on this adventure I didn’t know that, however once we got to the park we could see that the paths had debris on them or were muddy as heck or were still under water.
Thus our walk could not be.
But I had my camera with us so I took a bunch of random photographs of what I saw around me. The following seven photos show you, my gentle readers, the ducky walk that wasn’t. 🤨
~ ~ • ~ ~
Gorgeous blue winter sky behind sign indicating play area.
~ • ~
An ark a la Noah, now muddy thanks to flash flooding in the play area. Oh the irony!
~ • ~
Debris on this walking path for as far as the eye could see.
~ • ~
Park bench, still muddy, having been submerged under flash flood water.
~ • ~
Canoe & kayak launching area still under water. Green square is top of a trash can.
~ • ~
Beginning of muddy path not taken, much muddier up around the curve.
~ • ~
Two ducks that initially appeared to be in the middle of the lake who were sitting on top of the back of a park bench, normally by the side of the lake, now submerged under water because of flash flooding.
Look closely. The above is a photo of a butterfly landing on salvia. I took it, while standing on our stone path by the side of the house, last August.
Seeing the butterfly then made me happy because I’m working on turning one quadrant of our garden, by the stone path, into a butterfly habitat. So far, this is a project in its infancy having attracted only a few butterflies.
But I have dreams. Big Butterfly Habitat Dreams.
And now, not to put too fine a point on it, I have a cheerful photo, perfect for sharing here today, whilst we’re in the midst of the Polar Vortex.
People, it is cold outside.
Yesterday it was 7ºF in the early morning and I thought that was cold. I had to go to the doc’s office for routine blood work so I bundled up and navigated the plowed, but still slippery, streets to get there.
It was an interesting drive.
Today, at the same time in the morning, it’s -3ºF outside and I’m going nowhere. Nowhere I say. Yep, I’m staying at home inside, being the reasonably prudent slacker that I am at heart.
Why? Because I can [the obvious flippant answer that we all know and love].
And because you, my gentle readers, are out there in the world wide web, waiting, I hope, to comment on this post so that I have something meaningful to do with my time today.
Thus our walk could not be.
