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Essentially, I have turned into a gardening, landscaping fool. Yeah, that’s it. It’s a joy, a challenge, and totally eats up my days but things are looking so much better around here, I don’t even care. What else would I be doing?
Wisconsin can grow weeds like no other so between watering and the weed pulling I spend at least two hours a day on that. Throw in the weekly mowing, another two hours, and my having dug more holes for planting this season than I care to count, and it is mounting up. Then there have been the nursery trips for plants, or looking at plants or other landscaping supplies, and my pocketbook is screaming for mercy. That doesn’t even count the trips to the antique malls as I zero in on every little rustic item that could possibly be used in the garden.
I left you at the rusty gate last time and with the help of my neighbor and her son we got it installed along the side of the house. My hope is to eventually block the awful looking unfinished window well for the basement with a Virginia Creeper, which although tiny, has already started its trajectory along the gate, curling its little leaf arms in myriad hugs around anything it clasps. It’s hard to believe this little plant is going to turn aggressive and start to devour everything in its path so it will need eventual taming. Neighbor’s son Bryce had originally come with his tractor at my behest to straighten out our three gravel piles which had been sitting for the past three years just growing weeds. I’m sure the neighborhood agrees it looks much better now.
While we’re on the subject about antique yard art, I have long wanted an arbor with climbing rose bushes gushing up and over, looking gorgeous and smelling even sweeter. Providence struck when I found two old porch posts of the same height (not the same design) and the most artful, handmade filigree wood decoration (all from different stores) and I had a light bulb moment that I could draw them together into an arbor. Well, not me per se, but Marc! That is awaiting his next trip back. I spent two days trying to remove the multiple layers of 100-year-old (no doubt) lead, oil based enamel and gave up. We’ll do our best to sand it and repaint and not fret that it isn’t perfect. I am still deciding upon a spot.
More along the planting lines, I bought and got two small spruce planted and painted a yard bench lime green and planted two climbing clematis. Eventually both should take off and spread along the split rail fencing.
On May 31st as I was working in my garden with Munchkin by my side I heard a distressed kitty call from the lilac bushes which are right along the road. I figured I’d better check it out fearing a feral cat had been hit by a car but instead a little pint-sized kitten emerged so ready to be scooped up into my arms. She was around 6-7 weeks old and the best I can figure is that someone wanted her gone and threw her out their car seeing me there with my other cat. She appeared to be slightly hurt around the mouth but I wouldn’t see how badly until later. Knowing we can’t possibly adopt any other cats, I set my brain to trying to figure out what to do with her.
Thank God for good neighbors—mine came to the rescue. They have an older terrier dog so weren’t sure how she would do with a cat but agreed to take the little kitten in for a few days. The kitten is strikingly beautiful, playful, smart and adorable, so of course within three days they said there would be no way they could give her up! We both took her into my vet where she received an antibiotic for her mouth wound which looked like a bad case of road rash. It tore loose her lower lip which will always now hang slightly open but that only makes her more adorable in our eyes. Bindi is home to stay and being spoiled rotten. So, thank you, heartless bastard who dumped her right at the highway to get run over, she has a far better home!
I’m getting into gear this week with some preliminary details involved in my job of coordinating the big rummage sale for the shelter. Advertising, arranging for all the volunteer help and scheduling, accepting the donations for three days, unpacking and placing everything in the warehouse and then finally, the three-day sale (when we’ll have upwards of 60+ customers at any given time); another day of disposing of leftover items and a final morning to clean and pack away the tables translates into right around a full and busy ten days for me. This doesn’t start until the 6th of July however and meanwhile I may make it up camping with some friends to Lake Superior’s shore next week and will welcome Marc back for a visit starting the 30th. It’s great to be home!
