April is a Lion

We had several bad storms earlier in the week in our area and throughout much of the South and not wanting to wake up with a tree on our heads, Mayhem and I spent a few days down the road on the farm, visiting and riding it out.  Here we are getting our "can't-live-withouts!" (all our pictures) out of the storm shelter aka the "gopher hole."

We came back home after two days and everything at our house is thankfully still standing.  Ten miles north some people weren't so lucky.  And look what is blooming on the rosebush I managed not to kill yet!

TIHSK

TIHSK = Things I Have Successfully Killed

So...have you seen that commercial about the girl that kills all the plants?  That's me, except even Miracle Gro can't help.  Seriously, I use that crap (it really is) and there is zero improvement.  I need negative numbers to describe how improved things are.  I can't even begin to count the extreme number of vegetation I have put to death.  Unlucky bamboo plants, a willow tree a family gave me after a funeral, vegetables, sooo many terrariums, and I'm working on some sort of tiny house plant I got for $free since it didn't have a price sticker on it and it was my lucky day at Lowe's last August.  I just have a black thumb!  Here's my latest victim...

Nearly three years ago, Boots and I bought and planted this grafted rose tree (peach on one side, pink on the other).  I was going through a rose phase (going through? am I out of it yet?) and even though I knew they were difficult to raise? grow? I was determined to give it a go anyway.

I really liked that rose tree and thought maybe I was going to end my kill-streak.  For a while we really had a good thing going, this rose tree and I.  I fed it banana peels and tea grounds and was religious about deadheading.  But nothing lasts forever I guess.

I've always heard you should prune your roses, but I've been too scared lazy unsure to actually do it.  This year I was feeling brave.  I read some stuff on Pinterest, because that's the Information Supah Highway these days, and even read in an actual gardening book about how to prune and hopefully not kill.  I was veeery particular with my cuts on My Precious and not so particular with this rose bush Boots and I inherited with the house, dug up, and just haphazardly planted, certain it would die.  I just hacked at this sucker.

Apparently that's just what the doctor ordered!  There's no flowers yet, but this baby took off with fresh growth and leaves, all whooohooo!  And the other one shriveled and died...  In my defense, maybe it was the frost?  I don't know!

Yesterday while we were in Lowe's picking up a new air filter we strolled through the garden center (where all the plants tried their best to play possum in hopes that I wouldn't pick them) and I selected a new replacement for the rose tree.  It's right in my front door so I couldn't just let the carcass stay there forever.

My rambunctious assistant!

A few shovel-cuts and I just ripped this sucker right out of the ground!

Practicing to be my yard man when he's taller.

I have no idea what he's saying, but this kid talks all the time.  Jibber-jabbering and pointing at everything!

Meet "Endless Summer" Hydrangea!

I wasn't sure what to buy and was actually thinking about another blessed rose bush when Boots said, "What's that?" and a light bulb went off in my head!  A quick scan of the tag-- morning sun, afternoon shade-- and I knew it would be purrrrfect!

And since I have no idea what the pH of the soil is the color will be a surprise.  If it blooms.  If it doesn't die first.

It's at this point (lucky you) that my camera battery died. 

Several hours and a charge later...  I transplanted about half of what I think are orange daylillies in hopes that they will like this new location better (more sun) and bloom more this year.  

This is the first year the irises have bloomed and I am so excited!  I can't wait!

I pulled up whatever crap that was we planted around the mailbox last August (that died) and loaded 'er up with more lillies.

And now The Survivor has a little breathing room.

Here's something else I haven't killed yet!  I have five (out of the original ten) white crepe myrtles that Meme gave me still kickin' it along the fence in the backyard.

This one I have to pet because the kudzu is determined to strangle it.

I gave everything a good watering and a quick prayer for longevity so we'll see what happens.  

Meme's Garden

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mayhem and his Ginny.

 

 

 

I'm jealous.

Driveway Drama

  (The drama part comes from me, as in the thirty minutes I spent writing ONE paragraph to perfection only to delete it with the swipe of a fat finger!  The actual driveway process has gone pretty smoothly so far.  Proceed.)

  As evidenced by this super (not) awesome photo I took, our house has a one-car carport.  One car, not three cars plus a boat.  It doesn't take much to guess that this can be a little complicated since all four won't fit in one space and no matter how creative we line up on the driveway, somebody always has to move so somebody else can get out.  It just doesn't work. 

  So for nearly two years now we've been parking two vehicles outside the carport and one on the driveway outside the carport, but behind the boat (not pictured, it's in the backyard!)  This has worked fairly well, but it's a grass killer. 

  And see how close Boots' truck is parked to that flower bed on the passenger side?  There's a Hawthorne tree in that flower bed and that thing hurts!  I'm talking thorns big enough to make the thorniest rosebush green with envy if it wasn't already green.

  See, look!  Hawthorne is that big one as tall as the house.  It was waaaaay bigger and more humongous than this, but I've tried killing it (several times) by whacking all the limbs back as close as possible in hopes that it will just dry up and die.  No such luck.  If you want hardy and dangerous, Hawthorne is your man tree.

  After hem-hawing around for about 18 months, I've finally decided that it's time for Hawthorne to go.  So on the afternoon of a 100 degree day, Boots and I dug up and transplanted what flowers we did want (one rosebush, about fifty orange daylilies, and some things I don't even know) and ripped up what we didn't. 

  We're planning to cover this whole dirty area with crushed asphalt right on up to where the grass meets the concrete driveway.  There's just no point in having a flower bed that no one will see because a truck parks in front of it and these two bites of grass are more trouble than they're worth when it comes to dragging out the lawn mower and cutting them.  Neat and tidy from here on out is the game plan.

  (This might classify as a crime scene photo.  See the drag marks?)

  The flower bed was pretty much vamoose at this point other than that little swatch of ivy.

  And my pitiful garden (too much shade) may make itself useful now.

  I watered these suckers every day for three days and then I forgot.  Maybe they'll make it, but probably not.  I have a black thumb.  If they live, they may be moved again to another (better) location.

  So ends Day One of the Driveway Drama.

Day Two (four days later, still 100 degrees) was a bulldozer in our yard leveling off the driveway so it will be nice and smooth for the crushed asphalt.

  The driveway will come together in stages and include a big roller to help pack the crushed asphalt down tightly.  

You can't even tell there was once a flower bed there.  The bricks look so tidy now without all that junk  overgrown mess Hawthorne covering them up.  It should look pretty nice after we get it all done. 

As Quickly As They Came......

They died!  The three on top were dead the day they opened!  What happened?

Good Morning!

Promises......

Plantin'

Before

After

Leave Your Socks on the Ceiling, Boots

One of the "duties" of being a blogger is that you read other people's stuff. You subscribe, you comment. You wish.

Mostly, for some reason, I read blogs about people that have kids or are having kids or want kids. Not that I'm having kids, but I might one day and I'd like to know what people are experiencing with their kids. I subscribe to photography, gardening, and cooking blogs- all of these things I want to be better at. Recently, I've become a fan of the home management/organizing and the "make your whole house pretty" blogs.

That's where the "you wish" comes in. I wish I had a beautiful house filled with beautiful things and a beautiful garden outback. So I aspire. I set out to make my house the cleanest on the block with everything in its place and nothing out of place, fussing at my husband to pick up his socks and throw his used floss away. I plan to toil in my yard raking, burning, planting, and weeding until it is perfect.

I came home from work yesterday with an itch to rake my whole acre yard into one big pile before dark. To make a long story very short, I didn't wear gloves and gave myself a blister and three splinters, one of which hurts so bad it can't be described nicely. My finger is red, swollen, and angry. Much pain.

I'm laid up today. I can't wash dishes, can't fold clothes, I barely washed my own hair and forced myself to wash both dogs, one of which appreciated her washing so much she's wearing dirt on her nose right now! After sitting around all day going stir-crazy I really lost my cool with my bum finger after Boots left for work. I wrote in my notebook, thought about paying bills, walked circles in the house.

Thoroughly aggravated, I set fire to a barrel of sticks in the backyard and then smothered it with leaves. It took the flames a while to grow back and sitting there waiting, I had an ephipany.

I am in such a hurry to fix my house and yard, make everything beautiful! I want everything done yesterday, but there's never enough time. Why can't I be like that fire and take my time? What does it matter that I don't have fresh paint and my carpet is old? Who cares that I don't have a magazine-worthy garden? Nobody comes to visit us anyways so why can't I burn it up slowly, piece by piece?

Remember when I said I forgot what Fall was like? I forgot Spring, too. It's like I'm a little kid all over again and Springtime is Christmas. I forgot about the flowers growing over night and I forgot about the return of the bugs.

Yesterday, I was driving out of the city into the country to take down tents from our funerals last week. I drove and admired the new growth, loving the bright new green and new colors. The Wisteria is growing everywhere, taking over the trees. Wisteria is so pretty to me, but I'm not committed to it because you can never get rid of it, although I probably should be since it might be Rachel-proof. You know who else loves Wisteria? Bees.

I got chills thinking about bees. Big, fat, bumbling bees that I used to catch in jars and kill with fly swats. Chills from remembering the first time I was ever stung. I guess I was six or seven, and somewhat proud that I'd been that long without being stung, much like the way I was proud that I made it to 20 without a cavity, but how big of an accomplishment is that, really?

I remember walking back to my Mamow's house from the garden with my mama and aunt. I loved the way birdseed felt and I stuck my finger into the hole in the bottom of a red plastic bird feeder so I could touch the seed. I felt the cool pebbles of seed and a white hot pop to my little index finger. I'd been stung by a mad bee trapped inside the bird feeder!

Oh, how I cried! My Mamow fussed over me and my tears.

I still love the feel of bird seed, but I've always been more careful of where I put my hands and fingers since then. You live, you learn.

Then when I was on Spring Break my freshman year of high school I got stung again by a red wasp, this time no fault of my own. I still have a scar from that. Good thing I'm not allergic.

And now, the Boots has to kill mosquito hawks and spiders in our house nearly everyday. The one thing I like about winter is the absence of bugs.

Bring the heat anyway.

Day 4

(How do ya like my plant tags Boots made me out of the tops of the seed packets and leftover nails?  Haha!)

I bought this "brandy snifter" from Wal-Mart at least four years ago.  Probably closer to five years now if I really think on it.  This humongous glass has been a torture chamber for a red bromeliad (drowned) and was there a fish in there at one time?  I can't remember.  It has mostly held junk.  Buttons, bookmarks, remotes, knick knacks, odds and ends, tchotcheys.  Junk. 

New life for the glass!

I've always been in lust over terrariums.  I've been in awe and astonishment over these glass gardens for years!

Rocks!

Dirt.  And a husband reflected in the glass!

And me, looking over my directions on the iPad.

I bought this new glass from Target.  It has a lid which is pretty cool in my book.

More dirt.

This is me experimenting with the plants, trying to figure out which one fits where best.

So pretty.  I'm very proud of myself.

There's two Indians Native Americans and two dinosaurs prehistoric creatures in each one.

Wonder how long it will take me to kill it.