Today is a good day to think about new beginnings. Spring is essentially here, even though we have some chilly nights to get through before my giant ficus gets to sleep outside again. I got the text yesterday afternoon that my friend finally had contractions regular and close enough to go to the hospital, and this morning at 4:20, a new baby boy joined our community. The mah jongg master and I went to visit him this afternoon, and we each got to hold him for quite a while, and talk to the pale and tired, but very proud parents. He slept the whole time we were there, even through all my jostling and shifting in my seat to make sure he was secure and I was comfortable. He's absolutely beautiful, and the second I looked in his face, I realized he was the image of his big sister. She's my practice grandbaby, and I have enjoyed her company immensely for three years. Now there's another copy of all that wonderfulness. I'm so happy.
I spent a couple hours pruning roses again. I further untangled the large mass of dark rose pink knockout bushes briefly, and then went around the circumference of the house, addressing most of the others. I think I only have three left to deal with next time. Most of them are already starting to leaf out, so I have very little time left to do what I need to do. The roses outside my bay window are in very bad shape. I don't know what kind of anger management issues that particular roofer had, but he beat the crap out of all my shrubs and trees, and that corner took the worst of it. The entire center of that rose bush was smashed, with more than half of the thick supporting canes twisted and bent, shredded and broken. When I was first inspecting it all, the canes still looked alive, and it wasn't until they'd had a couple weeks to starve that I realized the extent of the damage. I cut back a lot today, and am hoping that the buds on the deeper canes will start to emerge and spring back. Roses are usually pretty hardy, and they tolerate significant pruning every few years. I have no reason not to assume this one will pull through.
Last fall, for a couple months, I watched my old man cat fight off a virus that I was just sure was going to take him out. He bottomed out, and for a few nights, I was on death watch. Then, like he decided he just wasn't ready to go, he turned around, and started regaining weight and looking like his old self. Around Christmas, I realized my calico had the same virus, as she started to evaporate in front of my eyes. Over the weekend, she was at that same make or break point. I have been feeding her meat directly off my plate for weeks, trying to get her to gain some weight back, and have the strength to fight, but I was afraid that she was about to give up. I have been leaving the back door open for days, and letting the Pride roam, and she always went back to her spot, between a rose and other thorny bush, in the canna garden. I decided that she was telling me that's where her forever spot would be, if it came to it. But yesterday and today, when I picked her up to carry her inside, for the first time in months, she feels like she has a little heft to her. She's looking like she feels almost normal again. I don't think we're out of the woods yet, but I'm allowing myself a little hope that I will get more than 12 years with her after all.
Athena is taking to the outdoors finally. That scary man isn't out there to send her hiding under the deck, so she's feeling more secure. She still comes to check on me, and talks at length about what fun she's having. Today she found me by the corner of the house, and was so excited, she ran up and jumped onto my hip, like the trees she had been hopping on all day. I think she was just having so much fun, she forgot the rules of climbing onto a fleshy surface. I'm loving discovering the Park through her new eyes.
It feels wonderful being outside in the mild spring sun. My beautiful peach tree that I keep photographing is covered in bees. There's a fern in the rock garden that is starting to re-emerge, when I was sure that I'd lost all the moss and sedum and ferns I'd planted over there. More trees are budding, including the plum, fig, and maples. Still no signs of life from the bald cypress and weeping willow, but there's time yet. And the countdown to forsythia time is ticking down. Soon we will win the gold. Forsythia gold.
No comments:
Post a Comment