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Musings on anything. |
 My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| I am so frustrated. I know a woman who has been evicted and is sleeping in her car. She knew for months this was going to happen and did nothing to stop it. She didn't even pack her belongings. This is an intelligent woman with a four year degree and a ready knowledge of history that impresses everyone. But she can't take care of herself. She is 65 years old and cannot follow directions. My church paid to cremate her father two years ago and has paid her electric bill at least twice. They paid for a U-Haul truck, supposedly for one day, but she kept it a week, before a couple of men went after it and demanded the keys. Volunteers moved her unpacked stuff into the truck and to a storage facility which someone else paid for. The Salvation Army has bunk beds, but she can't sleep in a top bunk because of vertigo. After two attempts to get an empty bottom bunk, she refuses to go back. She sabotages everything everyone does for her or the directions she's given She has to get rid of her cats and is greatly distressed about that. I tried to talk to her about getting a winter coat, and she walked out, saying, "My spirits are too low to deal with it right now." To me, that spells mental illness: she can't face reality. There are shelters in town. There are social workers, charitable organizations, Food Bank, etc. This is a small church that just can't afford to support her. Members have given her cash, blankets, as well as rides and help moving her stuff. You can't take her by the hand and force her to the right offices during business hours and make her cooperate. There is a possibility that she enjoys suffering and being the center of attention. She has disability income and food stamps. She cant manage her own life. It's frustrating for everyone who knows her because they are empathetic. They don't want to see her freeze or be attacked at night. But no one can adopt an old woman who is stubborn and unhealthy. There is the old saying, 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.' In this case, the horse can't be led to water if he just refuses to go. |
| It's that time of year. I cut back the peonies on both sides of my house to about 4 inches. My dad planted them about 20 years ago. He planted everything too close together. The azaleas and the rose of Sharon overshadow the peonies in bloom. I couldn't dig up the peonies because they're too close to the patio slate. Now that they're in the clearing, I can see the shrubs need some severe pruning to make room for next year's growth. This is the time of year for that, too, so the pruning won't get rid of blooms. The cold weather has not chased away the mosquitoes or the bees. I still have to dodge those and wear repellent. While I was at it, I went to the back yard and cut off the irises. I hate cutting those lovely green leaves, unlike the brown peonies, but it needs to be done. I can see where the weeds are now in that bed, and where I need to add top soil. All the beds need mulch, but I'm short of funds. I took the potted geraniums and amaryllis inside. The begonias will be okay until we get freezing weather. My potted strawberries, sage, and chives will be good outside all winter. I have pots of annuals, which don't need to be "saved". I will have to rescue the pots from freezing and store until spring. The yard needs as much attention as the inside of the house. But yard work is much more satisfying. And I get to do it all again, next year, God willing. |
| My church today celebrated a reunion of ex-prisoners who played hand bells through an outreach of my church. These are women who found deep meaning and purpose in making music and having fellowship together. While the rest of society looked down on them, families abandoned them, they grew together and learned a skill you can't use everywhere. It takes a lot of discipline to play the bells. They had the whole service, reading scripture, sharing testimony, thanking the leaders who had made them feel valid and loved. (For sure not the warden.) We had a catered lunch with them afterwards. Many of them brought family and friends. We don't have many kids on a regular basis, so seeing the little ones running around and stirring in church was welcome. We have "church in the round" for such occasions. That means round tables are set up with cloths and centerpieces, instead of rows of chairs. It makes for a more relaxed and casual atmosphere, although we're pretty casual to start. It was time well spent. Their music was beautiful. I didn't hear one wrong note. Some of them hadn't touched a bell in years, but they spent yesterday and 2 hours before church today, brushing up. If you've ever played hand bells, or listened to many concerts, you know it's not as easy as it looks. They love the director, now in his late 70's, who has moved out of town to a retirement home, but made the trip back for them. Volunteers from those early days were there to play with them. It was meaningful to them and to us. It probably will be the last reunion this side of Heaven. They didn't pay for hotels; volunteers gave them a place to stay, dinner last night, and breakfast today. |
| I've discovered I've handled my geraniums incorrectly. I was right to break off the dead leaves and finished blooms, but then I dropped them onto the top of the pot, thinking it would be like natural mulch. According to the video on YouTube that I watched yesterday, that is a no-no. You must not leave the debris on the top of the soil. So I went out and cleaned the pots and filled an empty pot with stems, etc., I went though all the other plants and herbs, too. I don't know why I was leaving spotted leaves on the sage plants. I knew they'd never be green again and ready for harvest. But the tops of the soil were covered with withered leaves. Again, I think that probably is bad, holding in bacteria and infesting the soil. So I cleaned those plants off and used the leaf blower on my deck. Right now, I'm overrun with yellow jackets. A relative already put gas in a nest in the front yard. But they're buzzing on all four sides of the house. I can sit at my dining room window and see them darting up into the cedar tree and down to the Rose of Sharon bush, which is overgrown. That's pretty high up. I always think of them as being near the ground, since that's where they nest. My house is a split level, and the dining room is upstairs, so they're way off the ground. I work outside for a while; then they find me and I quietly walk away. You never want to run from a yellow jacket or swat at one. Tonight while on the WDC site, one buzzed around the lamp on my desk. Yep, I got up and left the room. I sprayed around and stayed out for a while. I haven't seen him again, or his little dead body. So I know he's still here. I've had trouble sleeping this week, so tonight I'll lie awake, afraid he'll sting me in the dark. |
| I don't know what sent me in this direction. But I decided I haven't had a family blowout in a while, so I invited them to my house for Sunday dinner. At first, I wanted just all beef hot dogs with decent side dishes. Then it hit me about a shrimp boil. I can't afford this, and it is so much work the day of serving! But I'm committed. I looked up the recipe, and it reminded me of the jambalaya that I made once for a Duck Dynasty theme. So I looked further. They are not the same, but are very close. Gumbo, seafood or shrimp boil, and Jambalaya are very close. They all start with green pepper, onion, and celery. You choose two of 3 meats: chicken, shrimp or lobster, and sausage (andouille preferred, kielbasa will do). Gumbo is soupier. Jambalaya has rice cooked in it. The boil has red potatoes and short ears of corn. It's all low country, because it is Southern and mostly Louisiana based. Crayfish is optional in all of them. I am not a crayfish person. I have made my shopping list. I still have to have hot dogs for the picky children in my family. If they all come, I'll have 9 children, maybe 10, and 7 adults, counting me. There's a precedent for two spouses not showing up. And the maybe 10th is a 15 year old boyfriend who can't be separated from my great niece. So I have to clean house, and plan my cooking schedule, since I have a 9 am meeting Sunday and have to clean up after Communion, making me a little late getting home from church. I have to prep the bread the day before: cut off the crusts and cut in small cubes to place in storage bags until Sunday morning. For side dishes, I will make homemade coleslaw on Saturday. I will make garlicky mac n cheese ( I will have ingredients ready so I can throw them in the pressure cooker/air fryer when I get home from church. The vegetables will be ready to go in the pot on the stove. I just have to clean my hands and start tossing in. The boil takes about an hour. We decided mid-afternoon, so I will make it okay. If they have to wait, okay. I have to wait when I go to their houses. One of them might bring dessert, and one might bring fruit. So that will be my Labor Day celebration. It might the last shindig this old lady does for the whole family. They have their own things going on these days. I want it to be memorable. |
| One of the things I've noticed this year is the abundance of moths, bees, and other bugs I don't recognize. Coneflowers aren't the most spectacular beauties, but nature's little critters love them. My butterfly shrubs are full of some purple and blue moths or butterflies. My marigolds and wildflowers are a buzzing with critters. The deer sheer off the hostas, lillies, and glads. Deer do not eat basil, irises, or peonies. Oh, they crave tulips, but ignore daffodils. The rose of Sharon is a fast growing shrub with beautiful blooms. Nothing eats that, but the bugs love the blooms. You can prune that shrub as much as you want; it's probably impossible to hurt it other than digging it up and burning the roots. It's a very hardy shrub. On the other hand, you never want to plant bamboo or voodoo plants. They are very invasive and will take over a vast area. They are worse than weeds and morning glory or the ivy that kills your trees. I have never been good with hydrangeas or roses. Yucca plants have sharp leaves that will cut you. Pretty doesn't have to mean nice. So, I put on my Off and tell myself that I'm doing my part for Mother Nature by feeding her critters, no matter how annoying they can be. (Hornets hurt the most.) |
| I was surprised to discover from The Grumpy Gardener that every 12 years, our growing zones go one mile further north. So, if you live in the southern part of growing zone 7, you may actually be in zone 8 next year. We can be a little riskier in planting earlier than usual or planting less hardy species. However, you may have to be careful about diseases or pests that come with warmer temps and increased humidity. It's always a puzzle to me about planting early enough, but not too early. And what about late planting? Some of my seed didn't come up, so I tried to plant later, and nothing came of that either, despite the heat and sunshine. I know from prior experience that planting melons or onions too late will produce nothing worth harvesting. Another puzzle is when is a seed too old? I harvested seeds from dwarf marigolds and planted the following year. But two year old seeds didn't work. Same with coneflowers. I was so excited to have seeds from my flowers producing a year later. Packaged seeds don't last long. Possibly they are old when you buy them, despite the labels. This year, I refused to spend money on new plants or seeds, so I have been disappointed and now don't have my usual array of flowers. I did splurge on some dark color iris bulbs yesterday, but I won't see those until next year, if I'm still around. They will have to go in the ground with the blue irises I inherited from my grandmother. Experience has shown me that begonias can reproduce when you least expect them. And geraniums (I love to smell them) produce new plants around the base of the stem! I'm going to figure out how to preserve them. I have sage plants and chives that are over five years old. They're all in pots. One of the things I love about the plants is the smell. I love fiddling with the sage, and smelling my hands when I'm done. The geraniums give off a fragrance as soon as you touch them. I have grown basil and dill, when I was buying seed. Same thrill smelling them as I worked with them. I'm still learning about deadheading irises, peonies, petunias, etc. I wish I had known more when I was younger. I have to coat myself with mosquito spry to go outside for more than 5 minutes, but I love growing things. Now I have the time to do this stuff, and my health is failing, I do what I can and take breaks. With a longer growing season, and time to water, maybe I'll learn a little about gardening before it's too late for me. |
| It's the petty things that drive us crazy. Now my ice maker has quit making ice. The box is completely empty. I looked it up online and took all the simple adjust/test steps. None worked. The water line is not stopped up because cold water still disperses from the freezer door. I didn't realize I depended so much on ice. Without ice to slow me down, I am drinking more cold water. (I am restricted for medical reasons, and ice chips was a way around that).I have been checking the freezer way too often, hoping it was just a fluke. I will have to go buy some ice, I guess. I wish I still had an old-fashioned ice tray. I've tried freezing small amounts in plastic cups. The last appliance repairman I had come to my house did a lousy job and charged a lot of money. So I will rant and rave until I can't take it any longer. How did our grandparents ever get by? |
| Each day I try to spend a little time out doors when it isn't raining. With this heat wave I've been watering my potted plants on the patio and deck, and sometimes the elephant ears n the ground above a short brick wall. I use a hose for the elephant ears but I carry buckets to the potted plants, not wanting to waste water on the slate or decking. There was a time when I didn't worry about the price of water, but those days are history. There is always weed pulling or digging, in the shade or when the sun goes down. Yesterday, I sat on a bench and used a hand shovel to dig up voodoo plants. Today while it was cloudy, I clipped vines choking out my blackberry bushes. My dad cleverly used wire fence to make tall cages to wrap around the bushes to climb. They had big spaces to reach in and pick berries. It's been over three years since Dad died, so the wires have gotten bent and rusty. Of course, I cut my arm and realized blood was dripping down my hand. I tried to ignore it and bent the wire back, but then I realized it needed cleaning. I feel like such a sissy. I stopped and went inside to patch my wound. I am on blood thinner, so I get an ample supply easily. I only recently had my black eye fade away, so I have new shoes to tread in the grass. As I went up the back steps to go in with my clippers, I realized both knees were itching. I forgot my mosquito spray. So as soon as I finished doing my own bandage, I found the anti-itch cream for my knees. Sure enough I have big swollen red spots now from enemy mosquitoes. As I spread the cream on the red bump with my bandaged wrist, I thought, "It's not my imagination. I am a sissy." I enjoy working in the yard, despite complaints, and love tending my plants. I just need a lot of protective gear and someone to take care of me! |
| It seems I am frequently pulling weeds. I am not a good gardener and I don't invest a lot of money in chemicals, organic or otherwise, or special tools. So I work a little at a time. I don't have the stamina for the heat or mosquitoes to do much at one time. And as everyone knows, weeds never stop! About 2 1/2 weeks ago, I had been cleaning up the yard, picking up things left by the children for the trash, etc., when I became distracted by the vine weeds growing across the ground into a flower bed I no longer maintain. I was bending over to pull them up, since I can't get up from a kneeling position any longer, when a bee came buzzing at me. Unfortunately, I am a cheapskate and was wearing old Nike shoes that were coming apart. I thought just for yard work, it doesn't matter how they look. The tops looked fine, but the soles were splintering. I had tried Gorilla glue, but that doesn't work like in the commercials. Small bits were still coming loose. As I turned to get away from the bee, I tripped and fell hard and fast. I believe the shoes had something to do with it, but it happened too fast to be sure. It may be that I was light headed from standing up straight and turning so quickly. I landed on my shoulder and my cheekbone. Then I couldn't get up, just like that old lady in the ad I've seen for decades! I cried like a baby because I hurt. Then I told myself that was stupid, and the bee was still buzzing over me. I yelled for help, but no one could hear. I got my hands up and dragged myself up the incline to the next flower bed which I had bordered with rocks. The bee landed on my face and neck several times, but I scooped him up with my hand and tossed him aside, fearful that he would really get angry now. I got up to the rocks and put my hands on them and pushed my upper body up. I thought I'll be here the rest of the day. I pulled one foot up so the bottom could be flat on the ground. These small actions that we take for granted become very detailed when we're struggling. When I got my arms up as high as they could go, I raised my butt off the ground and managed to get some weight on that one foot. I pulled the other leg up behind me, still balancing on my hands. When I could get my feet closer to my hands, I slowly stood up. I turned and headed to the house, knowing I had at least one sting on my arm, not knowing about others. I climbed the stairs more quickly than usual, being motivated to get out of the heat and get water and medicine. I ended up with only one sting, a heck of a black eye, a skin abrasion and bruise on my shoulder. I had a cut on my eyelid and one tiny one in the circle under my eye, and mud on the back of my shirt shoulder. I don't know how it got on the back, when the bruise was on the front and the scabs on top. I put ice on my puffy eye and drank cold water in the cool of the house. I finally found the antihistamine cream for the sting. I sat dazed for a while worried about my vision. Apparently, I did everything right because the swelling went down in about 12 hours. I didn't discover the shoulder injury right away, and that didn't bother me later. I am on blood thinner, however, so falling is always a dangerous thing. I was glad I didn't call 911, because I would have spent the rest of the day in ER. It turned out okay this time, although most of the time a blow to the head can be a severe problem for people on blood thinners. What I learned, though, is I survived this accident. I am a tough. I'm not going to sit and wait for the end to come. I will keep pulling weeds and trimming shrubs, just a little at a time. A few years ago, I could crawl on the ground under the shrubs and trees to trim them or pull weeds, but that's never happening again. That's okay. I will do what I can and what I want. By the way I still have a bruised shoulder, and a black eye, although the purple spot has gotten smaller. |
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These days I just have houseplants and one lonely portulaca that came up by seed and has bloomed this past week. I've been "home" for three months and the plants have responded well. But, I long for Thailand.
. Isn't it funny how we take things like electricity and plumbing for granted... until we don't have them. Happy for you!