The Job That Never Ends

Inspirational song: Nobody Told Me (John Lennon)

Just as the giant pile of dirt clods starts to look like it's shrinking, some sadist comes along and adds another few hundred pounds of dirt to the top of it, and all my hopes are dashed, yet again. This Sisyphean task is crushing my spirit. And it may all be for naught.

Today I learned that we had been using the wrong name for this pest. "Vineweed" sounds very close to correct, but it is actually "bindweed." As in it binds up the gardening and farming implements of destruction used to try to till it out. I will train myself to label my enemy properly in the future. I also learned that it is much more insidious than we knew, and we knew it was pure evil. We had been digging down a couple of feet, thinking there probably weren't roots deeper than that. Au contrâire. They can go five to ten times that deep. And the seeds can lay dormant for decades (multiple decades) before germinating. Egad. What have we gotten into?

There is a small glimmer of hope, however. In all of my internet research, I found a level-headed gardener who offered reasonable advice. He said that the weeds are coming up in areas where the soil conditions are beneficial for them. Most likely the pH is off and the nutrients are out of whack. By taking our soil to be analyzed, and then giving it what it actually needs, we have a chance of growing what we want, and crowding out this nastiness.

Until then, this is the job that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friends. Some people started digging it, not knowing what it was. And still they keep on digging it forever just because it is the job that never ends... (My apologies to Lamb Chop.)

Calm Places

Inspirational song: State of Mind (Fish)

When faced with overwhelming feelings about things that are well beyond my control, I often retreat into familiar niceties. In those happy places is where I spent this day, trying hard not to feel swamped by my country on fire. The day is surely coming soon where I can no longer hide, but today was not that day.

While I had mild weather with good shade, I worked more on the front yard weed eradication project. My hands were too dirty to check my phone, so I was lost with my own thoughts. I kept them in neutral places to the fullest extent of my control. It is easy to immerse myself in gardening, when I am in reasonable health, and so I did. 

When my shade ran out, I got cleaned up, and we went to our daughter's house for a celebratory event. There was a video chat baby shower for one of my neices. Now why didn't I think of doing this before Valerie was born? It was fun to check in with that side of the family, and to hold up Valerie to the camera like Simba on Pride Rock. (No singing, though.) The baby had been fussy all day, and it appeared that she was saving up all her good behavior for her grandfather. He was the only one who could work the magic consistently. She was okay for me, but I was not the one she wanted. That's fine. I will have my moment. 

She is growing nicely. Her neck is starting to get stronger, and now that her umbilical stump is gone, she is liking belly time a bit more. She is transitioning from looking like a squishy newborn into the little old man face stage. This part is entertaining.

Volcano

Inspirational song: Spinning Wheel (Blood Sweat & Tears)

Nope.

Nope, nope, nope.

I had leftover spicy food for lunch and snacked on cheetos in the afternoon. Dinner was a scotch and soda over Mario Party.

Now I'm home and hoping against hope that all that junk stays down. I had a Prilosec, which may or may not help.

I'll check in with y'all tomorrow. Peace out.

Wait and See

Inspirational song: For What It's Worth (Buffalo Springfield)

There is a whole lot happening tonight. I've been away from the news, working in my garden, on a really monumental day, so I feel particularly unready to discuss my early feelings. There are no easy platitudes for a moment like this, with civil unrest, economic collapse, and a global public health crisis all at once. There is too much to sum up in a tidy paragraph, written at bedtime by a tired, sore woman. I choose to hold my tongue now. I may try to come at this in small bites as the week plays out.

We focused on the arduous task in the front yard all day. Mr S-P did more work in the pit than I did, but I still did enough weed-picking to wreck my spine and corresponding muscle structures for the whole day. We did a fair bit of pointing and negotiating on placement of the berm with rock border and gravel paths that we are planning. We are still in talks about a short picket fence across the front of the yard, and whether to install a gate or even an archway. Not sure where that will go as the season progresses.

Desperate Measures

Inspirational song: Flowers on the Wall (Statler Brothers)

After spending a day on a boat on a lake, a person often feels phantom waves for hours after returning to dry land. I know I always have trouble sleeping on nights like that, from the residual motion. Today I discovered that it's possible to get that sensation from other substances. I spent so much time today prying apart clods of earth and sod, picking vineweed roots out of them, that even now, hours later, I feel like wet soil is dabbing at me, all over my neck, arms, and hands. In the past, I've dug up dandelions for so long that the image of the leaf clusters is burned on my retinas, and I can see them in my sleep. This is like that, but far more tactile. 

We jumped forward along the project track. There is now a giant, deep hole in the front yard. Turns out there are vineweed and creeping bellflower roots almost two feet down. Mr S-P made two big piles of sod for me to clean out, in the shade, and then he just kept digging towards the center of the earth to prepare for the next bed and gravel path area. A volunteer peach tree is filling in the deepest part of that hole, but soon the rest will be refilled, leveled, and covered with weed barrier and gravel (I expect to need to veto mulch a few more times before it's done.)

After he did a little carpentry in his driveway, T wandered to the edge of our property, and looked at the deep hole, shaking his head. I said something about how hard it was to get rid of the vineweed and bellflower. He threw his hands up in defeat and said now it has started taking over his yard too, but he was not about to dig like we are doing. Does this mean we could eradicate it all from here, only to find he is banking it, and sending it back over?

Over

Inspirational song: Street Fighting Man (The Rolling Stones)

In an average growing season, we make dozens of trips to garden centers, frequently going to more than one in a day. A bedding plant here, a flower or two there... we add to our garden in drips and drabs all spring and summer long. 

This is no average season. My usual shopping habits are dramatically curbed. It takes a whole lot of emotional preparation and careful behavior to shop anywhere now. It's much easier to stay home and just make do with what I already have. But bedding plants have been a struggle. I had horrible luck getting seeds to start (so... exactly like every other year for the last 15+ of them). If I wanted vegetables to grow, I had to give in and buy seedlings. And there was only so long I could stand having last year's dead marigold and calibrachoa stalks in pots on the porch. I broke down. The Mr needed to go in search of hardware for the attic fan installation, and I jumped at the chance to get out of the house. 

Once we got to Lowe's, I didn't even pretend to go to the hardware section to stand around and wait for him. I just grabbed a cart and headed to the Danger Zone alone. I covered nearly the entire place--inside, outside, and across the way in the two parking lot sections. I filled a cart with a combination of fancy and cheap stuff, from a big alstromeria the same color as the decorations on my wedding cake all those years ago, to the most pitiful half-dead marigolds (the only ones I've found all season). I got most of the vegetables I was missing, but I still can't put my hands on kale or herbs. Why is that this hard? I keep saying I'll go to the locally owned Flower Bin to get the hard to find stuff, and I never do. I'll find a time of day when it will be slightly less crowded, and maybe then my shopping will be complete.

It's a gut punch. When you get just a few plants at a time, it's easy to hide from yourself how much you're spending. When you save it up, and then load up on fewer trips, you have to admit to a problem.

(Rare explanation of tonight's song: when I was carrying zucchini and tomato plants from the front porch to the back garden, Harvey shot outside, and refused to be caught. After dark, when we were watching more of Man in the High Castle, I heard howling outside. I came out to find that little shit four houses down, facing off against another cat... IN THE STREET. I tried chasing him home, and he vanished into a neighbor's yard, and I didn't feel like setting off their Ring doorbell trying to catch him. He didn't come home for more than an hour after that. He has given up his outside privileges. I just have to impress that upon him in a way he will believe.)

Fully Animated

Inspirational song: I Could Have Danced All Night (My Fair Lady)

When was the last time that time got away from me this thoroughly? I had no idea just now that it was already midnight. We had dinner with T and A (I feel weird using that set of initials, but it's who our neighbors are), and after dinner and a card game, T and Mr S-P retired to the drawing room, as it were, for manly pursuits like Call of Duty, and A and I sat at the table and talked about a little of everything. I don't remember a time feeling this animated and engaged in conversation. I missed this. But eventually the guys got tired of losing at video games and came back out. Everything broke up almost immediately after that, and the spell wore off. Now we recognize how very weary we are and how ready for bed. We got a good glare from Jackie and Harvey as we walked in, like parents who waited up for wayward teens out past curfew.

We dropped in briefly for baby time this afternoon. There were a few things the kids wanted us there for. Valerie, on the other hand, was not interested in playing around. She was being fed when we arrived, and she spent the next hour bouncing between feeling fussy and being mostly asleep. She didn't want to do the cute, photogenic kind of sleep. She wanted to be nestled face first into the curve of our necks, or nothing. We all tried to soothe her in turn, and she mostly tolerated us. It wasn't until her grandfather was switching hands with her and managed to push just so on her belly that the burp that had been distressing her finally loosened and escaped. She was much more charming after that, but I had missed my window on good photos. I had attempted one while we sat on the deck, and she was having none of it. I'll share it regardless.

I think we are making promising advancement on this year's projects. Last summer (or the one before it?), on one of his trips through the building salvage warehouse, the Mr found a whole house fan that they were ready not to have lying around anymore. They slashed the price and gave it plus a handful of little things he had come to obtain for a grand total of about 45 bucks. It has been taking up space in the garage ever since. I desperately want this installed, to cool off the house in all but the worst of heat waves. I would rather not replace the actual air conditioner unit until I can do the full remodel/addition of the back patio that I have wanted for a couple of years. Summers here are warm but not brutal (except a few weeks when upper 90s are possible). After trips into the attic, and some designing, Mr S-P has come up with a way to install the fan that will be the least disruptive to my original plaster ceilings. He whipped up a contraption out of scrap plywood, and as soon as this week, I will have multiple improvements around here: a cooler house with lower utility bills, a little less wood in the scrap heap, and a few square feet of clear space in the garage. Fingers crossed that the whole thing gets completed soon.

Neither

Inspirational song: The Twist (Chubby Checker)

Just when a good pattern starts to get established, something comes along to wreck it. Today we neither saw the fresh human nor did work outside. It was cold and rainy and there was not a speck of motivation to be had. Oddly, I am okay with how it all turned out. We needed a day of eating leftovers and marathoning our current television series (Man in the High Castle).

There really isn't a deeper story today. I took a mental holiday, as well as a physical one. I didn't dig deep in my past or prophecy the future. I read a novel and listened to a heavy, cold rain. That's it. And it was glorious.

By special request, today's photo is one of the cats. The requester knows why.

Combo

Inspirational song: Edelweiss (Sound of Music)

Over the course of five days, the growth of that tiny newborn is surprisingly noticeable. I don't mean to suggest that she is larger, that I can tell. I mean her face has lost that squishy newborn puffiness and started looking like a real person face. She spends more time being alert, with her tiny eyebrows furrowed like she is concentrating on making important connections about the world around her. I'm not a hundred percent certain, but I think she practiced the process of smiling in genuine amusement today. I would have to look it up to know when that skill fully develops, but I had a preview of what it will look like when it happens.

When the kids bought this house, the back yard was essentially non-existent. The sunken back concrete patio had to be removed as a part of the deal, and the "lawn" was just deeply entrenched weeds. Since then, they have put in a ton of work, creating a fire pit with a ring of decorative rocks, a raised garden bed, a row of catnip, and new this year, actual grass. 

We went over today to help out with their garden. We literally started as we rolled up. The Mr leaned over and pulled a weed before he even closed the car door. I tried to resist briefly, but while I waited for him to quit, I ripped out a small handful of weeds in the paver walkway. Some compulsions are contagious. We went in, and got some baby time, before moving on to jobs in the back yard, preparing the garden bed and planting some tomatoes, and digging up a handful of the more persistent mallow weed. Naturally, it was not I doing most of the heavy labor, but I did what I could for as long as I could. 

And then I went back and got more baby time. Because my motivation is pretty focused these days, as it should be.

Every Other Day

Inspirational song: One Way or Another (Blondie)

My dog Elsa can count to two. It takes us two days to split up a can of cat food among the pride, with each getting a glob about half the size of a small field mouse plus some crunchies at each meal. On the nights when the can is finished, Elsa will not settle down on her bed until she is escorted into the kitchen to have the empty can placed gently into her mouth, so she can remove every atom of cat food residue out of it overnight. She knows when it is Every Other Day. This is not the smartest dog in the world, but she holds her own, and she can absolutely count to two.

I have taken to dividing my time this week into days when I see the baby, and the days when I work in the yard. Today was a yard day. Tomorrow may be a combination of the two, helping the kids get some stuff done in their garden. (Mostly my job will be baby holding and cat wrangling.) A week or so ago, I tried to sprout seeds in a big square carton that once held 30 eggs. I imagined the cardboard structure would last at least a couple weeks, long enough to get the next raised bed constructed and filled with compost and soil that had been dug up and picked clean of weeds and roots. I was wrong. The first time I watered it, the carton started disintegrating. So rather than wait for seeds to sprout, I just dug out some of them and put them in the brand new bed. Because it was such a mess, I just dug trenches and mixed up all sorts of green beans in one row, stained-glass corn in another, and the few okra seeds I could identify in a patch. I planted sugar snap peas and carrots where I could fit them in the first bed made. And we now have one big and two tiny tomatoes going, plus a container where I sank a peat pot with what I believe are celery sprouts. This didn’t take a significantly long time to accomplish, but the sun was so bright it was quite enough for one day.

I got word that the grandbaby has gained back a few ounces, and has become what our family has always charmingly referred to as a “cheese factory.” I’m so glad to hear she is doing exactly what she is supposed to this week. I can’t wait to play with her tomorrow, on every other day.

Baby Practice

Inspirational song: You Give Love a Bad Name (Bon Jovi)

Baby cuddles are getting a whole lot more fun. Now that Little Miss Smith has more practice being on the outside, she is demonstrating great skill in being cute and charming. I missed seeing her yesterday, so she had 48 hours of baby practice by the time I arrived this afternoon with takeout food for her parents and a big need to hold my little princess. (I do not say that with the assumption she will be a stereotypical girly girl. I just recognize she will rule my heart.) Today she was alert, and we spent a lot of time gazing deeply into each other's eyes. Sure, she only vaguely focused on my face, but I think she believed me when I reminded her that I was the one pledged to spoil her for the rest of my life. 

She went through a phase of losing a little weight, as babies so often do in the first couple days after birth. Watching how heartily that little girl ate today, I have confidence that the trend will be towards growth from here. She is definitely processing more calories now. Milk in, not milk out. I had her resting against me, as she "informed" me that another diaper change was due, musing that life would have been more amusing if "shart" had been a part of my vocabulary when I was a young mother. At that point, her father created a much more accurate verb for what she was doing: "shiccup." Language is fun.

I think I was there roughly six hours, enjoying the snot out of being a grandmother. The tiny human was pleasant the entire time. She got briefly fussy when her diaper was full and when her belly was empty, and both of those conditions were easily solved. My kids are doing a superior job of learning how to be parents. Because of the lockdown, they missed in-person new baby classes. The beauty of our time is that all the resources they needed were available online. I'm impressed with their attention to detail and rapid skills development. 

Sleepy

Inspirational song: Symphony No. 1: In Memoriam, Dresden, Germany 1945 (Daniel Bukvich)

The tiny princess got to ride in the car again today. She needed to go get weighed, to make sure she hadn't lost too much since birth. (Newborns often do that. Gotta watch 'em.) I received pictures and a short rundown of the trip. The primary takeaway was that she was zonked out the whole time in the car. I suggested that she inherited that trait from her auntie. I never met a kid who could fall asleep in a car faster. (Makes me anxious every time she does cross-country drives to this day.) 

I said that in a group chat and the car-sleeper agreed. She said it's the note the engine tunes to, generally a rumbly G, that puts her out like a light. She told me of a symphonic piece they performed in band in college that was a musical interpretation of the firebombing of Dresden during WWII. The tubas sustain D and G, and it sounds just like a bomber engine. She sent me a link and it was eerie. She said even rehearsing that piece made her sleepy, just like riding in a car.

Today was yardwork day. I used up all my spoons on mowing the front grass while the Mr kept going on building another raised garden bed. I tried to help back there too, but I wasn't good for much other than fetching and carrying by that point. I learned that I'm still terrible with a garden rake. I tried to level piles of dirt as needed, but wow am I untalented. It's all built, though, and tomorrow, in between doctor visits and baby snuggling, I am to go plant green beans and okra. I just hope this year they grow unmolested by an old black Labrador who likes to graze.

Face to Face

Inspirational song: I Kissed a Girl (Jill Sobule)

That was worth waiting for. Holy cow. That gorgeous little human is going to be around forever, and I could not be happier.

The kids came home from the hospital this afternoon. My little girl said she wanted chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and cream gravy, and green beans for her first meal at home. I threw in a cheesecake with strawberries, and brought the whole shebang over this evening. I started cooking mid morning, and took two breaks to have online meetings, and I think I put too much in one small day.

My daughter looks good. She was getting around better than I would have expected. I even got to see the incision in her belly, which appears to be sealing up well. She's walking a little hunched over, but considering the shock to the body that a c-section is, any one of us would do the same. 

I had two chances to hold that bundle of perfect. I gave her up after a short cuddle, thinking she was ready to eat, so I got up to put dinner on plates for the adults. After dinner, I sat and watched Grandpa get his first cuddles, and he was a pro. Valerie was so relaxed against him. A little later I got belly time, but I think her ear was too close to my mouth. She jumped a couple times when I talked. I need to be more conscious of that in the future. There will be so many more days of snuggling to come, we will get a routine down.

Color Wheel

Inspirational song: Call Me (Blondie)

At the birth center in Boulder where my younger daughter was born, I was busy recovering from a rough experience, so her papa and the nurses did most of the early cuddling and care for those first several hours. After I woke up from a chemically-induced nap, they handed her to me wearing a tiny green t-shirt. It was sort of a soft leaf green, and against her pale pink skin, it was too cute. I looked at her and pronounced the magic spell (not that I knew it was for all time), “Green is your color.” I always remember that moment as being like the scene in the Disney Sleeping Beauty when the little fairies offer their gifts to Princess Aurora, like beauty and grace. She must have heard and understood me, because to this very moment, green is still her color. Saturday, before she herself went into labor, her “nesting instinct” was to use the last of her Manic Panic green hair dye, so she looked her very best for the arrival of the Littlest Smith.

While the kids were at the hospital, waiting to learn whether the doctor was keeping her there (moments before we learned there would be a c-section), we were outside in the front yard. In the front corner of the Unless garden, there was a tall (three feet), vivid blossom, all by itself. A gorgeous poppy had bloomed, thriving despite an iffy transplant a few years back. It stood out among the green of lilac bushes and all of the overgrown bee balm and vinca. It caught our attention, both of us, and we both took a picture of it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, while I waited to learn who my grandbaby was going to be. Today, I made my pronouncement. I told my daughter I have chosen Valerie’s color. She gets poppy orange. It’s a difficult color to wear, so I won’t have my feelings hurt if it doesn’t flatter her skin tone. But I’m going to go out of my way to offer her toys and items of that color, to see whether the magic strikes twice.

We have gotten two video chats so far, plus a dozen pictures and a couple videos. Kid is so perfect. Parents are doing well. It’s all I could hope for now that she is here. Tomorrow I get to meet her in person, and I’m bringing a celebratory meal. You know, I had plenty of bad days over the last few years. It sure is nice having ridiculously good ones, two in a row (so far).

Ode to Joy

Inspirational song: Valerie (Steve Winwood)

An hour after I hit publish on last night's whining, self-pitying blog post, in a house not far from here, a little blonde woman started noticing "changes." At two am, she texted me to say she had gone in to get checked out. She was there about an hour before they decided that nothing was progressing, and she was sent home. I had been finding it difficult to fall asleep right when she wrote me, and getting all excited like that didn’t make sleeping any easier than that for quite a while.

By mid-morning, she was ready to go back and be a little more assertive about staying. Indeed she did. They kept her this time. But not everything goes as planned, and at noon they informed me that the Littlest Smith would be arriving by the side door. They promised a cesarean section by mid-afternoon. It took far longer to get going than we imagined, while sitting at home, trying to meter how many times we texted, asking for updates. I think they wheeled her back a full hour after we were told it would start. The radio silence that followed was agonizing.

Just as the worst anxious thoughts were starting to creep in and scare me, we finally got a quick word: we are out and okay. Then we got a beautiful photo of a little pink cherub. On the group text, my family was celebrating, but I had to ask in the only way I could think, "what is baby's name?" The answer told me that unless and until the Littlest Smith tells us otherwise, she will use she/her pronouns.

Without further ado, may I present the most beautiful new thing in our lives: Valerie.

All in the Family

Inspirational song:  Nature's Way (Spirit)

Of course this is totally natural and well within normal limits. It even runs in the family. My brother and I took our sweet time appearing. My daughter herself arrived five days after her official due date. So the fact that 30 seconds from me typing this starts the fifth day after due date for the next Smith is as expected as anything like this could be. Doesn't make waiting any more fun. I catch myself quoting (out loud when I'm alone; in my head when I'm not) Holly Hunter from Raising Arizona, "You get back in there and get me a toddler, H.I. I need a baby." 

There is a pretty solid family habit of grouping, and frequently doubling, birthdays. It's possible we just perceive it that way because there are enough of us on each side that statistically it was inevitable that people would share birthdays. For example, Mr S-P was born on his older brother's birthday, and I missed being born on my dad's by a day. So we had high hopes that the new guy (non-specific term) would come on Saturday, and share a birthday with my mom. Sorry, mom. I hope your birthday was lovely, even if we haven't yet made you a great-grandmother.

I suspect tomorrow will be much like today. Spending as much time outside pulling weeds as we can stand, trying to get the garden ready for the next round of planting, the next section of dog-resistant fence. It works for a while to keep me from texting my daughter, hoping for word of contractions. It doesn't demand enough of my attention to keep me from thinking about it every minute of the day. I cannot believe how many hours are suddenly in a day when one is waiting like this, unable to do a single thing that will alter nature. I need a hobby or something to make the time pass faster.

Time

Inspirational song: Wasted Time (The Eagles)

I can’t even pretend this time. Usually I can tease out some useful thing I accomplished in a given day to write about in detail, if I haven’t got anything important to say. Today even that would be too much of a lie. I will not take credit for one iota more than I have done. The best I can say is that I woke up early, like well before seven, and stayed up. Nothing improved from there.

I got coffee, and settled in with my iPad to play time waster games. At one point I got up to make an egg scramble based on quiche Lorraine. Then back to games. The Mr suggested I try again to start seeds that will go in the new garden bed, which at least got me dressed, after a fashion, in a Costco shirt and dirty shorts that clashed horribly. The task burned up less than an hour. Back to the game. I started the day with just over three billion points. After wasting the entire day, I burned through more than a third of my available points. Now I did nothing productive for like ten hours, and I made myself mad and disappointed too.

I didn’t even shower until 8 pm, and that was only so I could put on jammies and come over to play Mario Party and watch the others eat Chinese takeout that I can’t touch. (It smells amazing, so I will search this place’s website for gluten free options.) Instead, I’m blogging early in the evening, because I’m halfway through a milkshake concoction I shall euphemistically refer to as a “sleep machine.”

And we still don’t have a grandbaby. I didn’t believe we would have to wait for induction, but it’s looking more and more like a possibility.