Momentous March

March 5, 2024 — Pat Bertram

There isn’t much in my life anymore that I want to or need to commemorate. There’s been nothing spectacularly good or spectacularly bad — just life. Living day by day. Enjoying being alive, or at least being at peace and accepting of what comes. I read, play games on the computer, exercise a bit, try to eat right, visit with friends occasionally. Just . . .live.

If there is any month, though, that should be commemorated, it is March, mostly because so many life of my life changing experiences have happened this month. In three weeks, it will be the fourteenth anniversary of Jeff’s death. It’s hard sometimes to remember that I wasn’t always alone, that once I shared my life with someone but fourteen years is a long time. Still, I do remember, especially during this month.

A happy commemoration is that March is also the anniversary of my becoming a homeowner. It’s amazing that those five years have sped by so quickly. It seems as if it wasn’t that long ago that I made this momentous and life changing decision. I have never once regretted buying the house — in fact, most days I look around in gratitude for this lovely, comfortable home.

March is also the month where my yard starts to come alive — the grass is greening, the tulips are poking through the winter-weary ground, and the larkspur are sprouting. I’m surprised to see the carpet of green larkspur sprouts this year — I thought I’d done a good job of collecting (and sharing!) the seeds — but I’m glad to see how eager they are to grow, especially since we’ve had so little moisture this winter. (The mountains grabbed it all before it could hit the plains.)

March is also the month I became a published author. Though it was a life-changing experience, to a certain extent, anyway, it wasn’t as much of a change as I had hoped. Still, it deserves a mention, especially now that I’ve pretty much given up writing. (I can’t even manage to write a single blog post every month, when once I wrote one ever day in addition to my fiction writing.)

I don’t often mention my birthday — I used to spend so much time online, used to post so much information, that I didn’t like the idea of my birth date being bandied about — but a birthday is certainly the anniversary of a life changing experience, perhaps the life changing experience, and that anniversary also occurs this month.

So far, all I’ve been doing to commemorate these momentous anniversaries is going outside every morning to see if any more tulips made an appearance, but with so many things to celebrate (though the anniversary of Jeff’s death isn’t something to celebrate, my surviving all these years and even thriving certainly is), I really ought to do something special. Well, posting this blog is special, but I should do something else I seldom do. Bake a cake maybe.

Wishing you a happy, momentous March!

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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New Calendar

January 1, 2024 — Pat Bertram

When I broke my three-year streak of blogging every day, I knew days would go by without my coming here to give you an update on my life, but I never expected that months would go by. I thought I would do a quick something for Halloween. Then when that day passed, I certainly thought I would participate in Blog4Peace as I have done for the past decade, but that day, too passed unacknowledged. Then Thanksgiving . . . I have so much to be thankful for, such as relative good health (relative to my age, that is), relative happiness (relative to those days when I never thought I could feel any sort of lightheartedness again), and relative wealth (relative to those days when I feared I would end up on the street). Most of all, I’m grateful for my lovely little house and sometimes lovely yard — my home. But Thanksgiving passed without any acknowledgement from me. Just because I passed on writing about my gratefulness, however, it doesn’t mean that I passed on feeling it, though to be honest, I don’t need a special day to be thankful — I am thankful every single day for the blessings life has bestowed on me.

Then of course, there was Christmas. That should have been an easy day to blog since I always post the same thing on Christmas, a graphic wishing you all the great things the season has to offer as well as a list of how to say “Merry Christmas” in dozens of different languages, but no. Didn’t happen. I don’t even have the excuse of being too busy because I spent the day alone, though my dear neighbor brought me Christmas lunch.

Well, here we are on a new holiday — the first of the new year. I just finished going through last year’s calendar to transfer recurring events to the new calendar, and discovered that except for a few birthdays I want to remember, there are no recurring events. Apparently, I am starting this year from scratch. Not as much scratch as I did after Jeff died, of course, because now I have a home, friends, and a goal (to create a lovely mini park in my yard).

I’ve been phased out of my job helping care for an older woman. She’s okay, just doesn’t need me right now. And I’ve phased myself out of the last group I belonged to. At the beginning, I enjoyed the meetings and the events we hosted because we were a small congenial group of friends, but the group has grown and there are . . .  undercurrents . . . for lack of a better word. I haven’t enjoyed the group for a long time, but I stayed because I worried that with nothing social to do, I’d become a total hermit. Come spring, of course, when I’m outside, being social is not a problem. I have neighbors to visit with over the fence and across the street, and I’ve even made friends with a couple of passers-by. But winter? When I’m inside so much? Luckily, it hasn’t been a problem so far. I manage to get together with friends occasionally, and when my knees cooperate, I even go out walking a bit.

All this to say that so far, my calendar is empty. Not that I (or you!) need to worry — this is first day of that calendar. There might not be recurring events for now, but that leaves a lot of room for more spontaneous get-togethers.

Sometimes I wonder what I’m going to do with all my free time, but mostly I let the days fill themselves. Books, movies, games, texts, calls, an occasional invitation, perhaps even blogging if I get back in the habit. It sounds trivial, doesn’t it? I never wanted to steep myself in inconsequential matters; I always strived for a meaningful life. For now, though, having life is meaning enough.

Wishing you a happy new year and a calendar filled with hope, love, health, and all the good things life has to offer.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Perfect Morning for Working Outside

March 22, 2023 — Pat Bertram

This was a perfect morning for working outside, so I did — work outside, that is. I got a lot accomplished, too.

I started columbine seedlings — planted them in cardboard egg containers and then stashed them in a zippered plastic bag for a makeshift greenhouse. I’ve always liked columbines, but so far, haven’t had any luck with the seeds planted directly in the ground, so I’m hoping starting the seeds early will work.

I planned to get a head start on weeding, but as with previous years, I’m having a hard time figuring out which of the seedlings in the garden are weeds and which are self-seeded flowers, so I’ll have to wait on weeding a bit longer. As time goes on, I’m sure, I’ll get more familiar with the various seedlings, so I’ll be able to get rid of the weeds before they take hol

I watered my tulip bulbs and was pleased to see they are doing well. Oddly, even bulbs I planted when I first moved here that never bothered to come up are showing signs of life. Some of them are in the middle of my lawn, left over from an early attempt to start a bulb garden. Last year when a tulip came up in the middle of my grass it bothered me because the green expanse was so beautiful, but this year, I’m glad of any green that shows up. Well, any green except weeds and Bermuda grass. To be honest, I wouldn’t even mind the Bermuda grass, but it takes over, and I don’t like aggressiveness in plants. Or in people, for that matter.

For a fun chore, I set out some of the figurines for my fairy and gnome garden. I do get a kick out of seeing those miniature scenes as I wander around my yard or work in the garden.

Lastly, I fed and watered my lawn. Well, half my lawn. The lawn food sprayer that was supposed to attach to the hose didn’t work, so I had to use watering cans, which was rather labor intensive. Still, I got the saddest looking parts of the yard off to a good start. Some of the grass that died last year is coming back. Some isn’t. Interestingly, larkspur seeds are taking hold in the worst of the dead patches of sod, so I’ll have growth of some kind, anyway. I’m waiting to see how the grass I planted last fall deals with the summer heat. It made it through the winter, which was the first hurdle. If it makes it through the summer, then next fall I’ll dig up the dead grass as well as the places where the Bermuda grass took over, and gradually build up the lawn again. That’s the plan anyway.

Even though I was tired, I’d considered finishing the feeding and watering, but luckily, the wind came up. Normally wind is not my friend, but it was a good reminder not to overdo my first time out.

With any luck, spring will continue to be good to me and there will be many more perfect mornings for working outside.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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House Anniversary

March 7, 2023 — Pat Bertram

Four years ago today, I bought my house. Whoa! I had to stop and reread that sentence because . . . four years, really? The years slipped by so easily, it doesn’t seem possible that I’ve lived here for four years already.

I encountered a few weird instances, such as getting a water bill for 19,000 gallons of water (they said it couldn’t possibly be their new electronic meter that was off because those meters, like all electronic devices, always work perfectly. Yeah, right.) And there were a few scary instances, such as my homeowner’s insurance doubling after it had already almost doubled the year before. But for the most part, buying this house was one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. It’s given me comfort and security, focus and confidence.

There’s still much for me to learn about owning a house, but little by little, I’m gaining the knowledge I need, or more specifically, I’m learning who to call to help me with anything that goes wrong. And I’m learning to garden and to take care of a yard. In fact, just this morning, my yard offered me the lovely gift of cheery yellow crocuses.

When I moved here, I had no idea how ideal this area would be for me. I came for the house, but I also found neighbors, friends, a library, a job, and so much more.

During all those years of being lost in grief after Jeff died, I held on to the hope of a something wonderful in my future because shouldn’t a supreme sorrow be balanced by at least a modicum of joy? And here it is, my something wonderful. My house. My home. For almost a decade, even though I had places to live, I always felt homeless. Jeff had been my home, and with him gone, I felt rootless. And now, I am putting down roots. Literal roots. Every time I plant something, I am both symbolically and actually putting down roots.

Being here gives me a sense of the ebb and flow of life. Not that I needed any reminders, considering how many people in my family have died the past decade or so, but still, I feel the flow of seasons. The life and death and rebirth of plants. And, unfortunately, the coming and going of friends. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve already lost friends due to moving, ill health, and even death.

I also feel the ebb and flow of my own life and am so grateful for the waves that washed me up on this particular shore. I have to smile at that the silliness of that metaphor. Not only is it trite, but it is inapt since there are no waves around here — just miles of empty prairie. But still, here I am, and with any luck, here’s where I will stay for many more years.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Posted in gardening, grief, home, house, life. Tags: , , , . 6 Comments »

Sluggish Thinking

February 17, 2023 — Pat Bertram

I had no idea it’s been so long since I wrote anything. Generally, I write to make sense of what I’ve been thinking, and there’s really no sense to make of many of my recent thoughts. My homeowner’s insurance increased by more than 50%, which stunned me. For most of my life — until just a few years ago, actually — I never wanted to own a house because of all the unforeseen expenses. Obviously, the insurance was not an unforeseen expense — I’d budgeted for it, and even budgeted for what I thought was a whopping increase, but the increase turned out to be more than I ever imagined, more than I can afford in the long run, even without increases in the coming years. (I’m fine for now, but yikes!) For the first time, I wondered if I had done the right thing by buying the house, but I do not want to even think about that. I know I did the right thing. So I’ve been trying to find a different insurance company.

One of the big issues in my case is that I have no credit rating, and insurance companies base their rates on your credit rating, which makes no sense to me. If a person doesn’t pay the insurance bill, the insurance is cancelled. Very simple. So what does my lack of credit have to do with insurance? I have no idea. They explained that people with a poor credit rating file more claims, but again, I don’t see what the problem is. If the claim is justified, they need to pay it. If not justified, turn it down.

One agent tried to explain to me that people with no credit are a poor risk because they don’t pay their bills, and she refused to listen when I explained I have no credit because I do pay my bills. I pay them as soon as I get them. No debts. Hence no credit. She didn’t care, and I can understand because it’s the company’s policy, not hers.

The company I’ve been dealing with used to be one that didn’t exorbitantly penalize people who had no credit, but I have a hunch the reason my bill went up so high is that they rethought that position. If I had a good credit rating, my insurance bill would be $1000 less a year.

(I did finally manage to get a credit card, but it will take years to build up any credit since I don’t buy much.)

My other issue with the original company is that although I have full coverage for rebuilding the house if anything were to happen, they lowballed the construction costs to keep the policy competitive. They were willing, however, to offer additional coverage for up to 25% more than costs indicated in the policy. So that means that total replacement coverage isn’t total replacement coverage.

As you can see, my thoughts have not been worth writing about. Truly, they haven’t even been worth thinking about. With any luck, I’ll be able to put this matter to rest for another year. I found a different company with much better coverage, but alas, only a few dollars cheaper. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for the new insurance people to come look at the place, take photos for their files, and tell me if there’s anything I need to do around the property. I do know they will say I need a railing on my back ramp, but that’s already been paid for; it’s just a matter of having the weather clear enough so that the workers can get it installed.

As for weather: just when the snow melted and I began to look for signs of spring, we got dumped on. It was pretty — huge flakes filling the air — but so very cold! Cold enough, in fact, to make thinking a sluggish business.

It’s a good thing, then, that I’ve finished thinking — finished thinking about insurance, anyway.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Reducing Clutter

January 19, 2023 — Pat Bertram

Today’s blog prompt, courtesy of WordPress: Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

There are a couple of places where I have things to clear out. My garage, of course, where I’ve stored boxes of belongings that I am either not ready to dispose of or that I don’t quite know what to do with or that perhaps I might use someday, such as my camping gear. My kitchen cabinets, especially the high ones where I’ve stored appliances I never use but that I keep just in case. For example, the blender. It’s not something I use, but it’s one of those items that really has no substitute, so I’ve been keeping it. I have a Magic Bullet now, which is a small blender, so I could get rid of the stored one, but since it’s not in the way, there’s no rush.

Despite the dubious disposition of these items, they are not really clutter. Clutter signifies untidiness and things lying around, impeding movement, reducing effectiveness, or wasting space, and everything I use on a regular basis — as well as things I don’t — are all neatly stowed away.

The place that is cluttered and where I definitely need to reduce that clutter is in my mind. I tend to mentally “rehearse.” For example, when the temperature gets below zero, my water meter goes haywire. Last year the water company charged me for 19,000 gallons of water I never used. I tried to get them to remove the charge, but they insisted the electronic meter was not at fault, that I had an intermittent leak or that I unknowingly left the water running or that someone stole water, none of which were true. I got tired of trying to get them to listen to me, so I paid the bill. Meantime, they raised the rates, so this year I have no inclination to let it go. The bill covering the period where the temperature got way below zero is due at the end of the month, and I find myself mentally rehearsing all the things I can think of to try to get them to realize the truth — that despite what they (and the company who sold them the meters) say, the meter is at fault.

I also have a tendency to obsess over things I cannot control, and so the same thoughts clutter my mind until a new one comes along to push the old obsession out of the way. Getting the recent bill for my homeowner’s insurance made the overage on the water meter seem like pennies. I budgeted for a hefty increase in the insurance, but this bill is exorbitant — an increase of 50%. Yikes. I’m trying to find a cheaper insurance, but I did that last year, and found nothing better than what I have, so now I clutter my mind with thoughts of how to pay the bill. Even more mind-cluttering are thoughts of future bills with additional increases.

I am doing a lot better about just letting things go, letting the clutter drain away, so I’m sure I’ll soon be able to declutter my mind of these things, too. At least I hope so. It’s much better — and more peaceful — to have an uncluttered mind.

As for the rest of it — my unused things are neatly packed away, so I’m not in any hurry to figure out what to do with them, though as I get older, I will have to make more of an effort to get rid of those stored items.

What about you? Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Real Life Beach Read

October 29, 2022 — Pat Bertram

The term “beach read” started out as an advertising gimmick for books published in the summer for the beach-going crowd. They were non-challenging books, a bit frothy and fun, and could be almost any genre as long as the story was good enough to keep one’s attention but not so serious it would spoil one’s vacation. Nowadays “beach read” seems to be an actual genre, generally a romance or woman’s story that takes place at the beach. In a typical beach story, three sisters who are all at a crossroad in their lives end up at the family’s beach house, often to figure out what to do with house they jointly inherited in the hope that a sale will help solve their various issues. The book ends up with all their problems being resolved as well as the three disparate and far-flung sisters reconnecting and reestablishing their sisterhood.

My sisters recently came to visit, and I couldn’t help thinking I was living in a real life “beach read.” They weren’t here to help resolve the issue of our parents’ house because that had been taken care of eight years before. (Oddly, they just happened to be here on the eighth anniversary of our father’s death, but it was our mother we toasted with her favorite Bailey’s Irish Cream.) And anyway, this house is a done deal — it’s mine and mine alone.

We had no serious issues to resolve, and no true crossroads, though both sisters are dealing with a change in their circumstances, and the visit allowed them a respite from their respective issues. We had reconnected as sisters during our first “three sisters” weekend, but we haven’t all been together in the intervening four-and-a-half years. And rather surprisingly, this was the first time ever the three of us spent the night alone under the same roof.

To be honest, I was a bit nervous about hosting this gathering (three women and one bathroom seemed an untenable equation), and I didn’t know how generous I’d be about sharing my house. But it all worked out well, perhaps because they didn’t stay long, just a couple of nights. It was fun being with people who had known me most of my life (I say “most” because one sister is eight years younger and one is twelve years younger). And it was especially nice solidifying our sisterhood.

Even though I live in a town way out on the prairie, we even managed to spend some time at a beach!

The body of water — a reservoir — is huge, 30 square miles, and is adjacent to a 13,100-acre state park. Obviously, there wasn’t a whole lot of the place we could explore in one afternoon, but we managed to see several beautiful areas and take some stunning photos.

Unlike the characters in a beach read, I don’t suppose any of our lives were changed by the visit, but it definitely was a special time for all of us.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Playing the Hand I’ve Been Dealt

September 1, 2022 — Pat Bertram

I do really well most of the time playing the hand I’ve been dealt in life.

Did I really use a game metaphor? Apparently, it’s not just gardening I see as a game, but life itself. This isn’t my conscious view of life — life has thrown too many tragedies and tragic consequences my way for it to classified with amusements such as card games or ball games or even gardening — but it does seem at times as if fate is willy-nilly dealing out experiences. Wealth to this person, beauty to that one, grief to another. Admittedly, at some point most people deal with grief, as if it’s a wild card that can fill out any hand, but still, I don’t think life is a game with distinct winners and losers. Nor is life playful or amusing as games should be — it’s generally too serious. (Though people who do manage to deal with life’s vicissitudes in a playful manner — people who believing the underlying energy of the universe is that of a child at play — find that things go their way more often than not.)

But all that is by way of an aside. I really came here to write about a moment I experienced last night. As I said, I do really well most of the time playing the hand that life and death (not my death, obviously, but the death of various loved ones) has dealt me. In fact, the cards I am holding at the moment are great ones — a comfortable home, a yard to get creative with, someone to call when I have a house emergency, a job that pays for such trivialities as groceries, good friends.

And yet, there are those moments . . .

Last night I went into my bedroom to turn down the covers in preparation for sleep, when suddenly I was hit with a vast wave of loneliness. I have no idea where it came from or why it chose that particular moment to engulf me, but there it was, stopping me in my tracks.

I let that devastating moment pass through me, though a faint sense of being alone lingered as I finished my task.

That’s all there was to it — just that moment. It wasn’t enough to send me spiraling into grief, but it was enough to temporarily overwhelm me.

And it was enough to make me take stock and realize that after all I’ve been through the last decade or so, I really am lucky to be doing as well as I am.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Posted in grief, home, life. Tags: , , , . 8 Comments »

The Big Picture

August 25, 2022 — Pat Bertram

I spend so much time focused on the individual aspects of my garden, both the delightful things like the flowers that bloom, the butterfly that flitted through the yard one day, the hummingbird that sipped nectar from my hanging plant, then stared at me through the window as if to thank me, as well as the undelightful things like stinkhorn mushrooms, encroaching weed grasses, and swaths of brown lawn, that sometimes I forget to look at the big picture. Well, today, I was skirting the house after my morning stint of watering, and the “big picture” suddenly took my breath away. I went inside for my camera, stood at the back door and shot this photo. Wow! This is my back yard? Really?

Even the left side of the red pathway (as you are viewing the photo) looks good although the green comes from freshly mowed weeds. The gorgeous greensward just to the left of the sidewalk is the area that I dug up last fall for a wildflower garden, and since there was sod left over, we decided to sod that area, too. I felt silly for having done all that work for no reason, but as it turns out, it was essential. That’s the best patch of grass on the whole property. The worst patches are where they simply laid the sod over the existing weeds and weedy grasses. The grass in those areas started out bright green, but now have now surrendered their precarious place to the original occupants. With any luck, this fall when the weeds die off, I can reverse the trend, but who knows? I sure don’t. Despite my pretty flower photos, I’m still pretty much of a neophyte gardener. (A neophyte photographer, too, but it looks as if I am more accomplished than I really am because I only post the photos that turn out. The rest end up in the trash.)

The green on the right side of the sidewalk is what’s left of the wildflower garden. It looks green but there is a lot of white from the copious alyssum. It’s called a carpet of snow, and from a certain angle you can see all the white, but obviously not from the angle the back yard photo was taken.

I friend had once suggested that I take a photo from the same place every day so I could see the changes, but I never did. For most of my tenure here, things were in such a state of disarray that there was no day I thought would a perfect time to start such a project. I realize, of course, that was the point, but I also had no concept of how the yard would turn out or even if it would turn out. For all I knew, there would forever be a heap of junk in the middle of a field of weeds. (This particular junk pile is just to the left of what is now the sidewalk. It isn’t really junk, just all the stuff that had to be moved to make room for the new garage.)

The only photo I have of the original yard is one from the opposite angle, looking toward the house instead of away from it. The old garage is where the raised garden now is, and the new garage is in front of where the carport was, which gives me a rather large yard!

I do have a few photos of the back yard that I took as work was being done, which gives me (and you) an idea of how much has changed over the years. Oddly, going by these older photos, it looks as if this yard was just a patch of dead dirt, but that was seasonal. Come spring and a little rain, and yikes . . . so many very tall weeds!

The above photo was taken in January, shortly after the old garage was torn down and the fence put up. The gazebo was erected over the existing concrete pad that once was in front of the garage. Eventually, the garage was built in front of the double gate, and the gate was removed. The brown bushes next to the pedestrian gate had to be dug up, and they were replanted in the angle formed by the sidewalk and the concrete pad. Looking at this photo, I am amazed at all that has been done in two-and-a-half years, not just what the builders did, but what nature and I did. No wonder I feel as if I work hard on the yard. I do!

It just goes to show that in gardening, as in life, it’s good to focus on the details, because that’s where the work is done — one detail at a time — but it’s even better to stop occasionally and look around to see all that you have accomplished.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of intriguing fiction and insightful works of grief.

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A Day in the Middle of Summer

July 21, 2022 — Pat Bertram

I spent the morning outside. I hadn’t really planned to. Since it rained last night, I didn’t have to water today, and I figured the ground would be too sodden to weed my flower gardens, so I thought this would be a good day to take it easy.

Still, I had to go outside to toss out the furnace filter I’d just changed (after being very careful going down those old basement stairs), and I needed to reattach a motion-activated light that had somehow become unattached from its perch on the side of the house (I was especially careful going up the ladder since I’m not sure it’s something I should be doing), and because I was outside anyway, I pulled a weed or two.

A couple of hours later . . . Yep, that weed or two turned into a massive cleanup of one of the two uncultivated areas of my yard. It’s not as if the area needed it — the weeds were only waist high. (I’m being ironic here, if you can’t tell. Not about the weeds being waist high, because they were, but about the area not needing to be weeded.) I would have to clear it out eventually — I will be ordering some purple echinacea and Goldsturm black eyed Susans to plant there this fall, so this gave me a head start on the project.

Speaking of which, the echinacea that I planted last year came in a five-inch pot, and they did well. The price has gone up quite a bit, so I’m considering getting plants in three-inch pots, which are half the price, but obviously smaller. Would that be a foolish economy? Obviously, for the same budget, I could get twice as many of the smaller pots, so if a couple of the plants died, I’d still be ahead of the game, but am I sabotaging myself by getting the smaller ones? Or does it sound like a smart choice? I sure don’t know.

But I’m getting off the topic of spending the morning outside . . . After I finished my chores, I took a few photos of flowers. I love how this morning glory turned out — as if the sun were rising from its center!

About then, a friend stopped by and we sat in the comfort of my gazebo (me with dirt still under my fingernails) to chat for few minutes. Next thing we knew, the church bells were tolling the noon hour. Yikes! Those hours do tend to disappear on a person.

We said our goodbyes. She headed out to finish her errands, and I went to harvest my cherry tomatoes. All three of them!

And then finally, I went back inside.

What a nice midsummer’s day!

Only it isn’t a midsummer day. It’s merely a day in the middle of summer. A quick Google search to find out when midsummer really is told me that midsummer is celebrated around the summer solstice, which we call the first day of summer. So confusing!

Still, whatever you call it, I spent a pleasant — and unplanned — summer day outside.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

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