Rosy

Inspirational song: Hey, Hey, My, My (Neil Young)

The roses are in crisis. The Gertrude Jekyll  rose is dead. I never got it properly hydrated when it arrived bareroot, I assume, and I have to admit defeat. I keep meaning to send a photo of it to the David Austin customer service email, and see whether they will replace it, or am I out of luck and out 54 dollars. There is a rose of unknown variety tucked in a spot behind my Korean lilac where it receives almost no sun, and it desperately needs to be dug up and moved. I don't have the energy to do it, and the Mr is going on a trip soon, so he won't get to it anytime in the near future. Poor thing needs light.

Today as I sat, wrung out from a long day of babysitting, Mr S-P came in from the garden and handed me a set of 5 rose leaves, covered in puffy orange spots. My stomach clenched. Rust. I was not prepared to deal with this. It appears that the only rose with rust was one of the very first ones we planted, a simple pink one that survived being crowded too close to two others (one of which remains). I rushed out and started trimming what I could get to, but I know I didn't get every fungus-covered leaf set. I only cut one whole cane, plus dozens of leaves. I was just too worn out to do a thorough job. I have to go back tomorrow, and apply some fungicide once it's fully trimmed.

Later in the evening, he came back from visiting a neighbor down the alley who is building an accessory dwelling unit (ADU). She ripped out a wild rose from where the ADU is going in, and of course he wanted to save it. He gave it to me along with some clippers, and asked me to prune it back to a size that might give it a chance of surviving transplant shock. I think he put it in the ground immediately, over by the garage. Who knows whether it will make it.

In Flight

Inspirational song: Fly Like an Eagle (Steve Miller Band)

Look, I don't want to waste a lot of time writing. I mostly want to upload a bazillion pictures. We took the kids to watch grandpa fly patterns at the airport, and when he landed, we went back to the little food truck area to have lunch with him before he took the rented plane back to Boulder. Kids were loose in the car while we parked, and they loved crawling around and yelling "HI, GRANDPA!!!" out of the sunroof. He let them sit in the plane on the tarmac, and I want some of those pictures framed.

Late Present

Inspirational song: Don't Stop (Fleetwood Mac)

There was very nearly a mutiny around here. For months our internet has been sucking more and more, freezing up at the most inopportune moments. Housemate 1 didn't complain, just turned their phone to a hot spot and kept plugging away. They didn't even raise a fuss when this caused them to be bumped out of an online quiz for their college classes. Housemate 2 was a different story. She is a gamer, and her online setup choked the bandwidth something fierce. She was a much squeakier wheel. So this morning I called our city's fiber optic cable office, and had them ping my ... well, he said don't call it a modem, but I don't remember what he called it. Either way, even the 8 year old equipment was still working properly. It was our wifi router of the same vintage that was freezing. It was time to throw the old one on the scrap heap and update the lot. After a little scouting around, we settled on a fancy system that we got at Costco. It has much better coverage, with a couple satellite units spread out in the front bedroom and basement. We are already noticing the improvements. This was a long time coming.

While at Costco, we saw that the kid gardening sets were back in stock, barely. There were only two left, so I pulled one off the shelf immediately, just to be sure they wouldn't disappear before I caught Mr S-P's attention. We took it over to the kids' house, and Valerie did a great job helping grandpa put it together. She is very excited to become a real, serious gardener. That's my baby.

We also went by Lowe's, looking for irrigation supplies for the garden. Of course we cruised through clearance plants. I pulled out a pitiful looking hydrangea, knowing that mine from last year totally died over the winter (I have a horrible track record). I showed it to Mr S-P, singing, "don't stop thinking about tomorrow..." Five minutes later, I was sneaking a long planter of wilty gerbera daisies into the cart, and I started singing again. He just shook his head and muttered something about knowing better than to let either of us near clearance plants.

This week's new board game: Wyrmspan. It's a very similar game to Wingspan, but the theme is dragons. We were all starting on an even footing. None of us was more experienced than the others, and we didn't end up finishing the game before we called it for the night. This one will be fun once we get used to it.

Winning the Game

Inspirational song: Iris (Goo Goo Dolls)

Picture it--the last minute of a sports game. The score is tight, and your team has the ball. The winner goes to the playoffs or semi-finals, or whatever. You get excited and anxious and your heartbeat goes wild in the anticipation. The other team calls a timeout, and it take for-ev-er! Play resumes, and they score! That's game! Your team is moving on!

That's how I felt today. We were driving back from a neighborhood near the airport, where we were on a silly mission to trade a couple of our purple and orange irises for a stranger's white ones. Our daughter called and announced she was at Rosales nursery at that exact moment. She couldn't remember which of the greenhouses on the property the succulents and cacti were in. I couldn't remember exactly where we were, so I waited on the edge of my seat while she looked through a few of them. And then she sent a photo. Told me to choose one. There they were, a tray of like seven or eight boobie cacti, for twenty dollars each. Touchdown!

We tried to go for a two-point conversion, and looked for a pink witch aeonium, but from this distance, I couldn't figure out what was what. I'm new to aeonium, so I'll need advice from a garden worker sometime in the future to know what I want. My daughter tried to find a raven ZZ plant, but the only ones she saw were huge and sixty-five dollars. Too much money and too big for her crowded one-bedroom apartment. We each have goals for the next time we get together to buy plants, a smaller ZZ, and aeonium of many colors.

Group Effort

Inspirational song: Join Together (The Who)

It took a village to accomplish this day. Nothing could have been done without multiple sets of hands. 

My original plan was to cook a family dinner for my daughter for mother's day, but she ended up needing to fill in at work that day, so those plans went awry. Instead we picked a day when we all could meet for lunch, and I cooked things that I needed to use from my freezer and pantry. I had a whole ham that never got used for Thanksgiving, when I had a million people here, and there were two whole cabbages taking up real estate in the fridge (I'm not sure why they were there). I also used what might have been the last bag of frozen Palisade peaches, some frozen raspberries from last year's garden, and a frozen pie shell. Thank goodness there were lots of mouths to help me clear out all that space.

I had help tidying the house, which I desperately needed, and after lunch our son-in-law helped move things in the back yard. The kids played on the slide again, specifically playing Valerie's new game of "rescue" as she is "falling" down the slope.

This evening, our son-in-law was hosting a game night at their place, where he was the GM of a role-playing campaign that he created. Our daughter was once again picking up extra hours at work (they're a little short-staffed right now), so we went over to keep the kids in their play room, watching a movie on Disney. The more tired children are, the harder they squirm and struggle to focus. Once it was bedtime, it took five of us to corral them and get them into jammies (one game player stayed late to help). 

Now it's 9:30 in the evening, and grandpa and I are headed straight to bed. We wore ourselves out. It was all worth the effort, though.

Dirty Hands Day

Inspirational song: We Belong (Pat Benatar)

Plant-heavy days are by far my favorite. I dedicated the bulk of my energy allotment to plant-related tasks, thus making me feel relaxed and happy as I wind down to sleep. This is how I hope to spend the rest of my life, feeling as though I have the freedom and emotional permission to tend to my growing things.

I was running low on indoor potting soil and I needed a large pot to put that new "German queen" tomato in, so I took myself down to Lowe's, unwashed and unkempt, and I didn't care who saw me that way. Two days in a row, walking through garden centers, and I didn't pick up any new plants. This is progress. Okay, maybe I watched a video of the guy who taught me about Rosales nursery in Long Beach, and maybe I sent a screenshot to my daughter, begging her to run down and get me a boobie cactus for 20 bucks, but doesn't that count toward last month's plants, really? 

While we were out weeding (Mr S-P, mostly, while I watched and chatted), I saw how big the creeping phlox is now. This is phlox we planted right next to the house, that decided (just like the yarrow) that it didn't like where we put it. The mound of pink flowers abandoned its spot next to the water spigot, and carried itself over to the rocks that are actually in the neighbor's yard. Fine then, grow there. You still belong to me. I don't think they'll cut it down.

I planted the tomato, as well as a sanseveria propagation that took a full year to get worthwhile roots. I refilled my potting soil box, and swept a panful of dirt off the porch and steps. Between hand-watering and running the sprinklers, I think everything is properly soaked. And as we stopped for the day and went out to dinner, we noticed that our first peony is blooming. Several more are on deck for next week. These are the best days.

Summer Cut

Inspirational song: The First Cut is the Deepest (Rod Stewart)

This time around it took about four and a half months for me to work my appearance back up on the priority list, and get myself a haircut. I'm pretty sure it was January last time I went. For some reason, the online scheduling app wouldn't let me get in with the stylist I saw before, so I just picked the first available slot. It was with the person who I believe is the owner of the salon. Housemate #1 sees her regularly, so I had confidence that it would be a good experience.

I took a few before pictures on my way out the door. I had trouble with the afters, because I don't think this stylist had a lot of experience with curly hair. She tried putting in product and scrunching once it was already mostly dry. Nope. Has to be soaking wet to form curl clumps. It sat flat against my head when I left. Once home, I tried to wet it and start over, but it didn't get the attention it really needed. It will settle down once I can do it start to finish. Or perhaps settle is not the right word. Curl and go wild may be closer to what I want.

It took significantly less time than I thought it would to get to Loveland, and I had time to kill. I noticed a really large garden center just before I got to downtown, so I circled around and did a quick reconnoiter of the premises. Their houseplant section was so small as to be difficult to find, but everything else was Texas-sized. Tons of bedding plants. Expanses of pottery and birdbaths. Accessories galore. I got out of there before I spent money, but that is not to say they will never see a dime from me.

Not Fast Enough

Inspirational song: Dream a Little Dream of Me (The Mamas and the Papas)

My favorite dream over the last year has died. I had a lottery fantasy that I could buy this wonderful 90 acre spread on the west side of town (well, just past the city limits), and make my own farm life there. It would have only taken 6.4 million for the property, a couple million to modify the house, another couple to landscape and plant it, and then an ungodly amount every year in taxes. No problem, right? Well, oddly enough, at no time over the last year did that many millions of dollars fall into my lap. I can't imagine why. This afternoon, while we were on a pleasant drive through the country, I was asked to open the realtor app, and look up someplace we passed. I then looked at the one place I had favorited, and for the first time in a year, the status had changed from for sale to pending. Alas, someone who could actually afford a multi-million dollar ranch got to it before I could.

I'm winding down after an active day of babysitting. The kids were running us ragged again today. There were shenanigans and hijinks galore. V has created her own games on the slide, where she's actually falling down a slope and getting rescued. Unfortunately her brother doesn't have the fully developed imagination she does, and he just wanted to slide down and immediately run around and get up as fast as possible to do it again. Taking them in the car to try and fail to find a car part at the Ford dealer in Loveland gave each kid about a 30 minute nap, which only served to supercharge them when they got home.

I suppose it is time to go to bed. But without my favorite creative visualization, I find I have to build a new farmhouse in my mind. I don't think there are any more 90 acre parcels near here to dream of, but I can still pretend.

Veggies

Inspirational song: Simply Irresistible (Robert Palmer)

Yet more proof that the umbilical cord was never fully cut between me and my daughter-- she opened her phone to text me about going out, only to find I had already texted to say hey, let's get in trouble. I had no purpose in mind. I just wanted to see her and those babies. She had a plan, to finally get some tomato and pepper plants to go in her garden. 

Out of all the places to buy vegetable starts, we chose based on the most important criteria, which store had the most fun shopping carts for the kids. Home Depot's are the best, for holding them in, being fun for the children, and being a manageable size to maneuver. 

We got the plants we needed, and I got time with the younger generations without wearing myself out too badly. Now I have to figure out what space is left for the gratuitous tomato plant I just had to have. (I couldn't leave without a "German queen," even though I have no idea what it tastes like compared to others.) 

Do It Right

Inspirational song: Please Mister Postman (The Marvelettes)

Sometimes I let tasks turn into monsters in my head. Usually these monsters involve making a phone call, or composing an unusually difficult email, but always they are easier than my anxiety makes them out to be. Take, for example, the item that has been atop my to-do list since April: file my periodic report with the Colorado secretary of state. The first time I tried to do it, I put in the wrong email address, and didn't get logged in. I set it aside for later, but this ratcheted up my stress level just a bit. Then I let it fester for weeks, morphing it into this big unknown task that might involve entering data that I might have to compile. I finally got to it today, once again using the wrong email (but different than the one before). I couldn't find anywhere in my extensive notes what I had used. As a last-ditch effort, I tried my personal email. Holy cow, that worked. And what was the periodic report? Basically "What's your business address? Are you allowed to file this? What's your name? Write the address again. Pay us ten dollars. Thank you." And that was it. I worried for weeks, and it was just an address verification and a small fee. I drew a line through that item on my list. 

We went shopping today, starting at the Ace Hardware that has a USPS office in it. So I mailed a document to my MLS office (couldn't find the right spot on the website to upload the document, so I went old school). Drew another line through my to-do list. While we were out we got some supplies we needed for the new beekeeping hobby. That's one item I can't mark off yet -- "research bees." I've started but haven't learned enough to consider it done.

Two of the last three things involve mailing packages. These will also be difficult to complete, just because I have this weird mental hangup about mailing anything at all. It takes me an embarrassingly long time to put packages in the mail (we are talking months to sometimes years). But if I can get these done, that will just leave one thing, which is a bill I can't pay anyway until I get paid on the first. Whew. Who knew I could get so close to done with my list?

Apropos of nothing, it was game night. That's all I took a photo of, so here is what I was looking at for the last few hours.

Phone In

Inspirational song: Fifty-fifty (Frank Zappa)

Okay, for real. There's nothing wrong with me. I just don't feel like writing. Don't be surprised. You try doing the same thing over 4000 days in a row and tell me you're always fresh and into whatever it is. I'm going to phone this one in. I'm even going to share the latest meme that I saved to my phone. Because I know I earn no money from this blog, hopefully no content police will come after me. Putting a picture of Alfred first, so it isn't the thumbnail, though.

Oh Boy

Inspirational song: It's Raining Men (The Weather Girls)

For over a decade I have wondered what exactly is responsible for what I have termed "the Boulder County smell." I've talked about it before, comparing it to the sweet wood smell that old school Tinkertoys had. It comes sometime during the spring, but I can't recall whether it's in May or June. I wasn't paying attention this year, so I desperately hope I haven't missed it. Today as we were driving back from Boulder, going down a more rural route instead of the highway, I asked Mr S-P whether the silvery-leafed trees along the way were Russian olive. He said they were, and it got me thinking. I Googled whether Russian olives are known to be fragrant. I saw an overwhelming yes in the results. Now I have a solid suspect for which plants create the smell. I still don't know when they bloom to release it. I bet it happened already, while I was too caught up in my own world to pay attention.

We had taken the ratty farm truck down to Resource, looking for more flagstones and pavers for our backyard hardscaping. We found neither, but we did stumble upon the remains of the CU cleanout haul. Every spring the university clears out the stuff left by CU students that still has life in it, like hundreds of plastic storage drawers. The Mr said if ever you needed a fan or a mirror, now was the time to get it. In fact, we grabbed two fans, and if I'd remembered to grab a mirror, I would have taken one. The only full-length mirror in the house is in the spare bedroom that I gave up to our first housemate. I need one I can access.

I bought a metal rolly-cart to use for my plant supplies, and it set off hours of work cleaning and rearranging. I had no idea how very far the domino effect would take me. I moved plants, cleaned dust off of glass shelves, gave up on many dead and dying plants, and looped in a few clutter piles along the way. The front porch and even the back yard were affected by my industry. I took a lot of breaks along the way, and right about the time the Mr was getting home from a volunteer event, I was covered in needy, needy men. Alfred had his paws on my chest, demanding love, Beinn was at my left side, doing the same, and Harvey jumped up on the back of my chair, determined not to be left out. I will need to finish tossing out unusable planting supplies (yes, these do exist) tomorrow, but for now I will give in and cuddle these boys.

Really Coming Down

Inspirational song: Riders on the Storm (The Doors)

I might be spending yet another night watching a severe weather stream for a state where I am not currently at. I was scrolling through YouTube, as I so often do, and noticed a streamer covering storms near Oklahoma City. I went looking for one of the TV stations instead, and they were talking about tornadoes on the ground near El Reno and Yukon. Without saying a word out loud where the listening devices could hear me, I picked up my phone and opened Facebook. It positioned the feed on a radar image, posted by my cousin who lives right there. On one hand, it was comforting to know he was fine. On the other, it was so disturbing that Facebook hadn't offered me anything he posted for months, yet it read my mind and put his name front and center. 

The next tornado they started getting worked up over started near the airport, and when I first saw it, I thought it was right around the neighborhood where I last saw all my cousins, at the wake for the above cousin's brother. Looks like the current storm took a different path, heading closer to the malls my friends and I used to hang out in back in high school. Although I'm having a hard time following it exactly while I'm typing. Can't split my attention as well as I used to.

I feel like this is all overshadowing the minor stuff we did today. The kids were here, invited to help grandpa plant the garden. They ended up doing anything but. He still planted but they played. Then the boy napped on me while I sent my daughter and her father to pick up some patio furniture off Facebook marketplace. For the record, the photo of the kids eating messy Popsicles is on the old ratty patio chairs I'm replacing, not the newer ones.

Grandpa Adventure Time

Inspirational song: Rocky Mountain High (John Denver)

Whatever laid me low yesterday is still dragging me down. I had zero energy. Did bupkis. So when it came time to take the kids, Mr S-P took pity on me and let me stay home while he took them adventuring. Originally he planned to take them to Boulder to watch the airplanes, but when they fell asleep in the car on the way there, he just kept driving so they got a full nap. They ended up in the mountains above Boulder, and they went on a short hike. The expressions on their faces tell the whole tale of how much fun they had with grandpa. They tried stopping by the airport on the way down, but by then bad weather started building, and no one was flying for them to watch.