Four Months

We are four months into our lock down/quarantine.  At three months, I was surprised it had been so long.  At four months, I am surprised it's not six or seven...years.

It's not that it's terribly hard on us, it just feels like it's gone on for so looong.  Maybe not even that so much as the feeling that we are on a treadmill with no end in sight.

We miss Mass. We miss people.  We miss going places.  We miss not worrying .

A lot of our friends have given up and more or less returned to socializing.

For us, with so many high risk people in our house, that's not an option.

What has turned out to be a surprising option is a family vacation to a house on a mountain lake in New Jersey.  Yes, all ten of us are going up to visit my parent's house next week!  This is their actual house, the one I grew up in. 

With them living with us most of the time, it's sort of turned into a vacation home.  At any rate, my dad's health hasn't been stable enough for them to visit since last December, so they (and we) are super excited about going. 

Prayers would definitely be appreciated.  I'm less worried about the virus (which is less prevalent there), and more worried that the trip will be physically hard on my dad.

The Concrete Garden

 Six inches of concrete over the course of 30 feet of sidewalk adds up to a lot of concrete.

Also, it turns out that getting rid of concrete is difficult, expensive, and requires special permits...

I had been thinking of adding a garden on this corner in the fall.

 And I had always liked the idea of a garden berm.

And I don't mind when my entire family collectively rolls their eyes at me when I suggest a new garden.

So I spray painted the outline of a garden, and we dumped the concrete there.

Then I ordered a couple of cubic yards of compost and had the truck dump it directly on the concrete.

 July is a horrible time to start a garden here because it's so hot and usually so dry.  So I mostly put in some annuals in the hopes that they would grow quickly and hold the soil in place.

I knew already that the plants all need to be fairly low growing so that drivers can see around the corner, and I already knew a few of the plants I wanted there.

When my local Home Depot had peach Drift roses on clearance, I nabbed two of them!

Come fall, I'll separate a bunch of my perennials, from other gardens and plant up this corner garden properly.

I'll probably add a few new bulbs and other plants, because I just can't get enough of the family collective eye roll really love plants!

Poem of the Week: i carry your heart with me

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

By E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

HT: Poetry Foundation

Happy Fourth of July!

 A bit late but, there you are.  We had as good a time as could be had without actually seeing family, friends, and fireworks.

We had food!

 And Choclo and Oob put on a "fireworks" show.

They did many rounds of tea bag rockets, including these tandem launches!

And they did these interesting water fireworks.

You fill a jar with water, then mix a few drops of food coloring into oil. 

When you layer the oil on the water, the denser, water based colorant falls through the oil into the water and makes beautiful firework like patterns.

And we finished up with brownies and watermelon!

Poem of the Week: America the Beautiful

America the Beautiful 

1911 version^[17]

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed His grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for pilgrim feet,
Whose stern, impassioned stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine,
Till all success be nobleness,
And every gain divine!

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years

Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed His grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!


By Katherine Lee Bates
HT: Wikipedia

Where the Sidewalk Ends

 We had been having problems with the little sidewalk that ran from our driveway to our house.  It was cracked and it flooded badly whenever it rained.

What a great summer project!

It's only 30 feet (10 meters) long, so not too big a job.

 Ha ha!

The first problem was that the original concrete was six inches thick.  That's at least double what I had expected.

And, while hard on the surface, the interior was crumbly, which turns out to be difficult when you are using a jackhammer (you only get little bits at a time instead of big chunks).

Honestly, we ended up out sourcing that part of the job after a frustrating half day.







Next up was laying a sand base.

Then tamping to flatten and smooth it.

Then it was time to mix and pour the concrete pavers.

 We decided to do pavers to give us better drainage, but an extra bonus was that it looks great with the garden!

And lastly we filled in the spaces between pavers with polymeric sand.

It took the whole week, but we're delighted with the new path!

Mostly Wordless Wednesday: Bad Jokes and Memes

Poem of the Week: Fireflies in the Garden

Fireflies in the Garden

By Robert Frost

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,

And here on earth come emulating flies,

That though they never equal stars in size,

(And they were never really stars at heart)

Achieve at times a very star-like start.

Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

HT: Poetry Foundation

Roland's Family

 I had mentioned that "our" crow, Roland, was nesting in the tree behind our house.

He's gotten more comfortable with us as we've continued to be friendly (with choice bits of food). We're both happy 6-10 feet away from each other.

He frequently hangs out in our carport, perching on garden tools and peering in the windows at those interesting humans who might have a bit of egg leftover from breakfast.




We've also started seeing his mate, whom we've named Corva.

She's still much more skittish (and sleek) than Roland, but she's gradually warming to us.

But today marked a new chapter: fledglings!

Or maybe just fledgling.  This one, whom we've named Edgar, has been hanging out on a roll of paper towels in the carport for the last couple of hours.

He's adorably scruffy looking!

We've put out a bit of chicken scraps for him, but he seems uninterested.

He actually lets us get extremely close (Mumpy walked right next to him and didn't notice until he flapped at her), but we are staying away to let his parents take care of him.

I suspect they will scoop up the chicken and feed it to him, but right now he isn't calling to them and seems happy to sit and wait.

We are secretly hoping there is a second fledgling to call Annabelle.  We have a long time blog reader with that name, who will (I think) be happy to have a baby crow named in her honor.

UPDATE: We saw the fledglings flying with their parents! There seem to be four of them, so we are naming them Edgar, Allen, Annabelle, and Lee.  Unless we figure out a way to distinguish them, I suspect we'll call them all Edgar...

Father's Day Poem

Pa’s Soft Spot

By D. A. Ellsworth

“All folks hev some soft spot,”

      Ma uster say,

“Somethin’ or ’nother

      Comes out some day

Comes out ’fore they know it,

      Jest like ez not.”

’N’en us kids’d say, “Ma,

      What’s your sof’ spot?”

An’ we’d keep a plaguin’,

      Till ma’d say,

“I wish ’at you youngins

      ’D run away!

Ask your pa’ bout his’n

      An’, like ez not,

He’ll tell you willin’ly

      What’s his sof’ spot.”

’N’en we’d ’gree to ask him

      That very day;

When his train’d whistle

      Why right away,

We’d jest skedaddle

      Clean ’cross the lot,

To be first to ask pa

      What’s his sof’ spot.

Pa, he’d say, “My sof’ spot?

      Never hes none!”

Wouldn’t tell us neither,

      But jest make fun;

Then he’d tell his brakeman,

      He’d says “Great lot,

Think you’re goin’ to tell ’em

      What’s your sof’ spot!”

’N’en we’d all go home,

      An’ after ’while

Pa’d tell ma ’bout it,

      An’ ma she’d smile;

We’d ’gin agin a guessin’,

      Till pa’d say, “Trot!

Time you kids wuz dreamin’

      In some sof’ spot.”

An’ pa’d never tell us,

      When he wuz in;

Ev’ry trip he come home

      We’d ’gin agin;

Onct George sez when prayin’,

      He prayed a lot,

“Please God, wisht you’d tell us

      What’s pa’s sof’ spot!”

One day the opurat’r

      Sent word by Bert

There hed bin a washout,

      An’ pa wuz hurt;

Engineer wuz hurt, too,

      An’ both might die;

Pa wanted to see us

      To say good-by.

We wuz all so still

      When we went in;

They wuz holdin’ pa up,

      A fannin’ him;

An’ pa sez “I may die

      Jest like ez not,

Tell the children I sed

      They’s my sof’ spot!”

But our pa didn’t die,

      He jist got well;

We wuz all so happy,

      Couldn’t ’gin to tell!

’Cause we all loved our pa,

      A great big lot,

I guess God saw we wuz

      Pa’s sof’ spot!

HT: Poetry Foundation