house | Bertram's Blog

Saddened

September 14, 2020 — Pat Bertram

It seems sort of silly to be sad at the loss of a single tree when so many trees are being burned in the wildfires all across the west, but this was my tree. Well, no, it wasn’t my tree since trees belong to themselves, but the tree was my responsibility. And it saddens me that I had to destroy it. (I was going to be clever and say I euthanized it, but that would indicate a humane death, and killing something with a chain saw cannot be called humane.)

Although the tree looked pretty and healthy, it was diseased. Apparently, at one time, it had been hit by lightning, and the core and the far side of the tree was dying. I could have kept it awhile longer, but it was a danger in high winds, and I didn’t want to be responsible for someone getting hurt by a falling branch. (And I certainly didn’t want to have to compensate the someone who was injured.)

It was the last tree on this property, and now it’s gone. I was always disdainful of people who bought a house and then immediately cut down all the trees, and yet, that’s what I did. A couple of the trees were diseased and dying. One needed to be cut way back to protect the roof and the tree cutter thought it would be too lopsided to be healthy, so they took the whole thing. Another was a danger because it was entwined with electrical wires.

And so I became one of the disdained. Even worse, I’ve never considered myself a killer, but from my actions regarding trees, I have to revise that assessment.

In my defense, we (the tree guy and me) are planning on planting new trees — perhaps a red maple in the front yard and three along the parkway strip between the street and the sidewalk where this tree was removed, and two greengage plum trees in the back yard. These will be real trees, not the half-dead sticks (now, completely dead sticks) that I got from an arbor society, so I’m hoping they will have a chance to survive.

Meantime, my property looks naked, and that, too, saddens me.

***

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 house, life. Tags: buy a house and cut down the trees, cutting down trees, euthanizing a tree, parkway strip between street and sidewalk, red maple, responsible for someone getting hurt by a falling branch, the loss of a tree, tree killer. 11 Comments »

More Broken Things

September 1, 2020 — Pat Bertram

I had just finished writing yesterday’s blog about Lost and Broken Things, when I walked into the kitchen and heard a loud crash. Apparently, for no reason, a green goblet jumped off a knickknack shelf in the corner of my counter and smashed itself on the kitchen floor. I was nowhere near the shelf when it happened. The shelf was solid without a wobble, the goblet was well back from the edge of the shelf where it had been for the past seventeen months, the air was still, and yet, there it was, bits of green glassware all over the floor.

This goblet had nothing to do with my shared life with Jeff. I hadn’t even met him when I got it. I’d bought it at Target when I moved into my first apartment for the grand price of twenty-five cents. At the time, I bought two each of three different sizes. I’d kept them for decades without incident, but when I unpacked them after I moved in to my new house, I found that one had broken in transit. And now another is gone.

If I were fanciful, I’d say Jeff knocked the goblet off the shelf to tell me . . . I don’t know. That broken things don’t matter? That I lost his spoon, so he killed my glass? That it’s not just “our” things that will be succumb to entropy?

But I’m not fanciful. I’m just at a loss to explain that particular breakage at that particular time.

Besides, if Jeff were to contact me, I’d hope he had more interesting things to bring to my attention than broken glassware.

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Posted in house, life. Tags: a glass that broke for no reason, a message from the dead, broken glassware, succumbing to entropy. 11 Comments »

Outrageous

August 27, 2020 — Pat Bertram

There are so many things I just don’t want in my life any more, such as outraged celebrities and millionaire sports figures telling me how put-upon they are and how evil the rest of us are because we don’t see that we are privileged and they are not.

Um. No. Just . . . no.

As much as I struggle learning to garden and take care of a yard, it’s so much . . . cleaner . . . than what’s out there in the rest of the world. No one has ever become so outraged they burned down a city because someone killed a plant. No plant association has ever intimidated people to join political organizations with public agendas that are actually different than the ones they privately espouse. (Well, that’s not exactly true. Although many supposedly earth friendly organizations don’t come after potential members with firepower, they do tend to blackmail folks, telling them if they don’t join, the world’s trees will all die, the bees will all die, and ultimately, we will all die. But at least they do this via mail rather than sticking a fist in our faces or burning down our neighborhoods.)

My property feels like a haven from the insanities of the world, and maybe someday it will even look that way. I’d ordered some live plants that came in today, hoping I will have better luck with them than I did with bulbs and such. These plants are vines that will, ideally, twine up my as yet unfinished gazebo. Unlike with bare root plants, I don’t have to scurry to plant these poor wilted things. It’s okay to leave them in the shade for a few days to let them get acclimated to the area and to recover from their traumatic trip. (The box they came in was smashed up, so much so that I’m surprised it got here at all.)

I have the plants sitting next to my seedling forest for the next few days, hoping all the plants will enjoy one another’s company. (A couple of the Kentucky coffeetree seedlings are having second thoughts about the move and seem to want to fade away.)

My luck with live plants is so-so. Some die, like almost all those I bought last year. Some live, but don’t grow. (Although they were bare root plants rather than in pots, four of the five lilacs I planted are alive but haven’t grown even a fraction of an inch all summer.) Some do well, such as the hen and chick succulents I ordered a couple of months ago.

(Oddly, the free one they sent in case one of those I paid for didn’t do well, is thriving. The others are doing okay so far.)

I still haven’t ordered any Greengage plum trees, but there’s no hurry since they wouldn’t be sent for another few months. (The house where Jeff and I lived had a grove of Greengages, and oh, they were the absolutely best-tasting fruit ever, the sort of things the gods would save for themselves.)

I’m never sure how many of any plant to order. If I order two trees, and one doesn’t grow, then I’m out of luck for another year. If I get three and all three grow, then I would have to remove one, which wouldn’t please me at all. (I should be so lucky to have that problem!)

Problems such as these seem so innocent, considering what is going on in other parts of the country. Although I might not be able to fix gardening problems, at least I can understand them, which is more than I can say for the problems that light up the news. Though even those are understandable to a certain extent. People seem to be addicted to outrage, and the more outrage there is, the more outrage there will be since outrage seems to feed upon itself.

It’s . . . outrageous.

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Posted in house, life. Tags: addicted to outrage, bare root plants, buying plants in pots, earth friendly organizations blackmailing people, greengage plums, hen and chick succulents, lilacs not growing, political organizations. 5 Comments »

Gadgets, Gizmos, and the Exasperating Mysteries of Life

August 17, 2020 — Pat Bertram

I wondered if the smoke alarm’s tendency to chirp at 2:00 in the morning when the battery is old had anything to do with the temperature, so I read a few articles, and apparently I was right. The cooler temperatures in those pre-dawn hours affect the battery output, and if the battery is getting low, the smoke alarm chirps. I was excited at seeing this confirmation of my surmise until it occurred to me that this scenario did not fit with my 2:00 am chirping because I’d turned off the air conditioner, and the temperature at that time was the highest it had been for several hours. Since I know that high temperatures also affect batteries (my car battery went dead in July one year, which is how I found out), it’s possible the high temperature had an effect, but the house had been hotter earlier in the day.

So I’m back to thinking that the early morning chirping is one of those exasperating mysteries of life, like the annoyance of a cricket in the house, the irritation of mosquitoes in the bedroom, the disturbance of a dripping faucet, the nuisance of a running toilet valve.

One of the articles I read was really an ad for a smoke alarm that had a built-in 10-year battery, which is all fine and dandy, but what happens in ten years when the thing starts chirping at 2:00 am and a simple battery substitution doesn’t eliminate the noise? I’ll stick with what I have for now. Maybe the next time I need to replace the smoke alarms, the ten-year devices will last to my expiration date, and will annoy the folks who end up in the house. A present from me, so to speak.

Considering the success I had in changing all the batteries by myself, even to the point of dragging a ladder from the garage into the house, I thought I’d tackle another little project involving a gadget that I’ve been putting off — installing an automatic garage-door closer.

My door is equipped with a non-automatic closer — me! — but since I am preparing for my old age, and since I tend to be a bit absentminded at times, I figured an automatic closer would be nice. I followed all the steps of the instructions, even found the “learn” button on the opener and set up the ladder so I can reach it, but somehow, the closer and opener didn’t connect. I tried again, but got the same non-result, though the two gadgets are supposed to be compatible. Another exasperating mystery.

If I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong, and if The Bob ever declines enough that travel is again an option for more people, I’ll see if my brother can get the gizmo to work the next time he comes to visit. (The closer was his idea in the first place, so he should be able to.)

Meantime, I am trying to get in the habit of being patient and waiting until the door is completely closed before taking off. Considering that not everyone in the neighborhood is as honest as my immediate neighbors, I figure it’s best not to give the larcenous neighbors an opportunity to sneak in before the door is completely closed. (That’s one of the ways felonious folk break into people’s houses, and even though the garage isn’t connected to the house, I wouldn’t want anyone in my garage illegally anyway.)

Gadgets, gizmos, and the exasperating mysteries of life. What a day!

***

Posted in house, life. Tags: annoyance of a cricket, changing smoke alarm batteries, disturbance of a dripping faucet, garage door closer, garage door opener, irritation of mosquitoes, smoke alarm at 2:00 am, the nuisance of a running toilet valve. 2 Comments »

Joys of Modern Life

August 16, 2020 — Pat Bertram

It’s horrendously early in the morning as I am writing this, hours before I generally get up, but I had to deal with a chirping smoke alarm, and now I can’t get back to sleep.

It’s my own fault, really. I should have changed the batteries a month ago since that’s when the alarms were originally installed, or even a week ago when I changed the batteries on the thermostat, but I don’t have a talent for ladders, so I hoped to get someone else to do the job. But I put it off. And there was no one around tonight (this morning!) to stop the chirping but me.

I looked up the instructions on how to change the batteries, and they were more complicated than I wanted to deal with, having to do with danger warnings, shutting off the power, flathead screwdrivers, and removing battery locks. I was sure the person who installed the alarms showed me a battery drawer in the side of the device so I wouldn’t have to dismantle the device before changing the batteries, but when the drawer didn’t easily open, I thought I might be mistaken.

So, YouTube to the rescue.

I was right about the drawer, and I managed to change the batteries on one alarm, but the chirping continued. When two alarms are close together, it’s almost impossible for me to figure out which one is chirping, and I’d picked the wrong one. I got the drawer of the second alarm open, but couldn’t remove the battery. A bit of finagling and a minimum of swear words, and the battery finally came out. Luckily, the new battery slid right in.

Ahhh. Silence.

I still have two more smoke alarms to do, but to get to the one in the back room, I will have to drag a longer ladder in from the garage. The smaller step ladder I’d used for the others won’t work because there is nothing for me to grab hold in that room to help me keep my balance. At least the others were near doorways, which gave me some purchase.

I know these smoke alarms are lifesavers, but do I really need four of them? One is in the bedroom, one in the hallway, and one near the kitchen as is required, but that puts all three of them within a few feet of each other.

Oh, well. There shouldn’t be a problem after this — I’ll write down the date I changed the batteries and will make sure I change them within the year so I can do it at a reasonable time rather than in the middle of the night.

I didn’t have to change the batteries tonight, of course — according to the instructions, I had a week in which to make the change. A week of that chirping? I don’t think so. I couldn’t even deal with an hour.

Now that the adrenaline of being so rudely awakened has drained away, maybe I can get back to sleep.

And so ends another saga of the joys of modern life.

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Posted in house, life. Tags: battery drawer for smoke alarm, changing smoke alarm batteries, ladder, smoke alarm, smoke alarm chirping, smoke alarms screeching, step ladder. 5 Comments »

Volunteers

August 14, 2020 — Pat Bertram

I’m still finding “volunteer” plants in my yard, plants that show up without an invitation. If the plants are nice, I don’t mind them being there. Too many of the things I planted never sprouted, and if they did sprout, they didn’t grow. (For example, the bulbs I planted last fall. Everyone I talked to and every article I read told me I didn’t have to water them, so I didn’t. I found out recently I should have been watering them every two weeks or so all winter long unless there was substantial snow or other moisture, which there wasn’t.) So it’s nice seeing some flowers in the yard, even if they are considered noxious weeds, such as this Flower of an Hour (aka Venice Mallow and Hibiscus trionum.)

I was delighted to actually find out the name of that weed because too many plants elude me and my identity searches. Still, the idea that I might be harboring noxious weeds doesn’t thrill me, but often the reason they are considered noxious is that they are poisonous to livestock rather than people.

I don’t know anything about this green flowered weed except that it looks like a lilac seedling until it grows up and creates light yellowish green flowers:

Some things I know, such as alfalfa. Apparently, alfalfa doesn’t like acidic soil, so it should feel right at home in my yard. In fact, I’m thinking of planting a small area of alfalfa because . . . well, just because.

I do know what this little dime-size flower is, thanks to a gardener who reads my blog. Just seeing the photo, which disguises the size of the bloom, it’s easy to see it’s a zinnia, though where it came from, I don’t know. It did make me think that maybe next year I should plant a patch of zinnias since they seem to like it here.

Once we’ve put gravel around the house and planted sidewalks and trails, it will be much easier to control what grows. For now, I have mostly dead yard that seems to attract volunteers.

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Posted in house, life. Tags: alfalfa, colorado weeds, flower of an hour, green weed, hibiscus trionum, noxious weeds, venice mallow, zinnia. 3 Comments »

More Concrete

August 12, 2020 — Pat Bertram

I recently got a bill for my car insurance along with a letter. The company was all puffed up with their magnanimity because — as they said in the letter — people were driving less, saving them billions of dollars, so were giving the money back to their customers via discounts. Sounds great, right? And sure enough, the bill did show a discount of $30. But a quick perusal of my previous bill showed that they had raised my rates by $40 for a net increase of $10. If rates are based on the company’s costs and payouts, and if people were in fact driving less and hence getting in fewer accidents and costing the company less, how could my base insurance have gone up? Sounds arbitrary to me, and just another of the many ways big companies look out for us and thank us for our patronage.

On a less cynical note, the workers finally were able to get the jackhammer to tear up my old sidewalk in preparation for building a new one without bumps and cracks for me to trip over. (Now these people really do look out for me, paying attention to things that might be hazardous around here for me as I get older, and they don’t brag about their magnanimity, either.)

They’re planning on coming back this afternoon to remove the concrete so that tomorrow they will be able to start building the framework for the new sidewalk and stoop, which brings me closer to being able to use the back door. I am so looking forward to not tracking mud into the house! I’d be tracking in some anyway, but I have an area set up in the enclosed porch by the back door for a mud “room” to help keep from tracking the dirt into the rest of the house. (I remove my shoes when I come inside no matter what door I use, but the bigger mats in the back collect more dirt than the smaller ones in front.)

The guys were worried about me inadvertently walking out the back door and damaging myself on the river of broken concrete, but I assured them I am long out of the habit of using that door. (The step is way too steep for my still-healing knee.) Too bad the broken concrete is so dangerous and impractical, because it has a rather appealing artistry to it.

Still, practicality is more important than artistry, and a new sidewalk will be wonderful. It will certainly be more of a boon than any fake discount, and more concrete.

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Posted in house, life. Tags: building a new sidewalk, car insurance, concrete, fake discount, jackhammer, saving money on car insurance. 2 Comments »

Just Hanging

August 8, 2020 — Pat Bertram

My first week at work went well. It’s not an onerous job, that’s for sure. Mostly I’m a companion, visiting with the woman and fixing her a snack (when I remember) and answering the phone (when I can figure out how it works). We (me, the woman, and the permanent caregiver) get along, and we’re starting to form our own little tribe or community or family or whatever you want to call such a congenial grouping.

One of the things I like about having a job (besides the income, obviously) is that it gives shape and structure to my days. The thing I like least (which, come to think of it is the only thing I don’t like about having a job) is that it gives shape and structure to my days. I’m not sure how to accommodate this contradiction, but then, I don’t really have to. I’ll just go to work when the time comes, stay home the rest of the time, and don’t think about it either way.

It is odd, though, having an actual weekend. When you work for yourself or take care of a family member or don’t work at all, the days are pretty much all “weekend” days. So this is a treat for me, having a weekend. (Even though it’s really one weekend day and two weekstart days.)

It’s been nice so far — I did a load of laundry, watered my plants, wandered around the yard thinking about where to plant the locust tree I’m starting from a seed, visited with my next-door neighbor and gave her a tour of my garage. I’m not sure what’s so special about the garage, but I love showing it off, and people enjoy seeing it. In fact, another friend just left after stopping by to have a cup of tea and see how the garage turned out.

When I was folding my laundry earlier, it struck me how easy the living is for me right now. There’s no trauma, no real hardship, not even any dreary chores like going to the laundromat. (I’ve never owned a washer and dryer before, and it’s such a blessing!) No one is pushing me to do anything I don’t want to do. No one is fighting with me or calling me names. (Thank you, Facebook, for making it so easy to stay away from the contentious behavior you seem to foment!) Even better, I’m not fighting anything. I’m just hanging here, letting everything be.

Yes, such a good day and a great beginning to my weekend.

Can you guess that today’s tarot card was the hanged man?

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Posted in house, life. Tags: a great beginning to a weekend, congenial grouping, creating a tribe, job as a companion, the hanged man, the living is easy, what I don't like about working, what I like about working. 2 Comments »

Small Doings

August 5, 2020 — Pat Bertram

I’d just fixed lunch when the mail carrier came with the vinca minor bare root plants that I ordered. Since I knew I wouldn’t want to work once I got home from work, I set my lunch aside and went out to plant. I’d already made a planter out of a tree stump, so all I had to do was stick the plants in the soil. It was easy enough to do. Now I just have to wait to see if the plants will take hold. If so, I’ll have an interesting mound of vegetation. If not, I’ll have the stump removed with the rest of the stumps on the property when the time comes. In this case, I can’t really lose anything except the small amount of cash for the plants.

I was thrilled with my helper. He wasn’t very good at digging or carrying tools, but he kept watch so I could work undisturbed.

Tomorrow, with any luck, my human helpers will be back. They’re going to start tearing out the old sidewalk, ramp, and stoop, and putting in a new one. I’m mostly looking forward to the stoop being finished. The step down from the house is just too steep for me anymore, so I’ve been using the front door, which I don’t really like. One, I don’t want to advertise my comings and goings, and two, I’m not fond of tracking dirt into the house. Even removing my shoes as soon as I get in the door doesn’t help completely. Sometimes I forget something and have to come back in to retrieve it and am too lazy to take off my shoes. And sometimes the dirt gets carried around on my socks no matter what I do.

The dirt here isn’t powdery, but instead is clumpish because of the clay soil, and I so do not like stepping on those clumps with shoeless feet! Soon, though, I’ll be able to use my back door and the mud area I created in my sun room for putting on and taking off shoes. Also, when the pathways are in — to the back gate, around what will be flower beds, and along the sides of the yard to the front gate — I should be able to avoid a lot of mud. Of course, one foolproof way of avoiding mud is never to go outside, but I haven’t been putting all this effort into my yard just to sit inside and look out windows. I suppose there could come such a time, but not now, and hopefully not soon.

Can you tell I really have nothing to say? I used to get annoyed at people who would write of the minutiae of their lives, but here I am. No great wisdom to impart, no great traumas to dissect, no cosmic revelations. Just me and my small doings in my small house in my small town.

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Posted in house, life. Tags: back stoop, clay soil, creating pathways in my yard, mud room, small town, toad photo, turning a tree stump into a planter, vinca minor. 2 Comments »

Garage Gallery

August 3, 2020 — Pat Bertram

I’ve been keeping track of my daily tarot card pick for a month now, and though I don’t see how the cards affect my life, there are certain things that show up again and again, such as sixes, which represent moving away from conflict, light after dark, and harmony. Another frequent card is the ten of weapons, which can mean anything from misfortune on a grand scale to a reminder that we can’t control everything.

Today’s card, the queen of pentacles, is also a frequent card, showing up about once a week. The queen is sensible, hard-working and domesticated; loves the comforts of life and displays splendor of life. She’s kind and affectionate; generous and forgiving, and prone to weight problems. Also, she depends more on her intuitive skills than her intellect.

I was nodding through the whole description. Yep, me. Me. Me. Wait! What? Relies on intuitive skills rather than intellect? I thought it was the other way around, but I suppose if the card is right about all the rest of it, then it’s probably right about that, too. Or not. Who knows? Another meaning of the card is someone who is shrewd and capable, so that seems to contradict the intuitive skills dependence meaning.

And oh, yes — there’s one other thing: the card represents the embodiment of feminine creativity.

I did have to smile at that, considering that I spent the morning decorating my garage, or at least one corner of it. I don’t like clutter, especially on the walls inside my house, because too much stuff makes me feel closed in. Over the years, though, I’ve collected some pictures I liked and painted others, and the garage seems the perfect place for them. I’ll be able to see them occasionally, and won’t get overwhelmed or claustrophobic.

I even put up a frill of a curtain. I wasn’t sure I wanted a curtain, though it would seem to be the epitome of a girl garage, but when I was sorting through things to store, I found a curtain ruffle and a rod that was the perfect size. Apparently, the window wanted a curtain!

Maybe I shouldn’t post the photo of these bits of artwork because, as a blog reader pointed out, posting photos and talking about my possessions might put me at risk for break-ins. Not that I have anything that’s worth anything except maybe my car, but that garage door sure was expensive!

Still, I got a kick out of my garage gallery, and thought you might, too.