I succumbed to the bargain bag of daffodil bulbs...100 more bulbs to plant after I just finished planting all the bulbs I bought.
I have 25% planted. It wasn't that awful. It is something to look forward to next spring. I am naturalizing! Daffodils along the edge of the woods.
Usually I wait until it is cold, and threatening snow--so I guess I am ahead of the game this year! So, bring on the hot chocolate....I am 25% ready for fall!
Random musings of a middle aged knitter.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
When the house is not your home anymore
This week I had occasion to be working in the "neighborhood" of the home we sold just over two years ago. I drove past on my lunch hour. I wish now that I hadn't.
The beautiful trees that shaded our yard are gone--victims of emerald ash borers--piles of sawdust dotted the lawn from the stump grinders. The grass was completely burned out. The flowers that I had tended so lovingly were thirsty, dead, or not in evidence. Weeds popped out here and there. Obviously these buyers were not at all interested in the outside appearance of their yard.
The house itself looked pretty much the same, but what can you do to a brick home?
The houses on either side had continued to decline. There was a reason we moved--more obvious now than when I was there every day. My comments to the homeowners association have gone unheeded--the feedback from our realtors about the neighbors was not favorable while we were trying to sell.
The house was just another sadly neglected home, looking more so due to the TLC of other homes. It was not our home anymore. We are very much "at home" where we now are. I cannot imagine living there again--even if the houses on either side were being maintained to the neighbor hood standard, they are much too close. It seems small and crowed there now--not because it is, but because my definition of "space" has changed.
It was a house in which we lived. We enjoyed our time there. It met our needs. It is not ours anymore, nor is it of any interest. I sort of feel bad about that, as the house and the land were friends of mine. I felt slightly guilty about digging up starts of my perennials when we were moving--which have done well here by the way. I should have just dug the whole thing up--and not wasted time with tiny delicate starts. It is obvious that the buyers would not have noticed or cared.
Sorry house. Maybe you will have owners who love you again one day--but it was time for us to move on to another home in need of our touch. You will always have my most beautiful bathroom! (No one would be crazy enough to tear that out, and I am not sure I have the energy to invest again in that type of project!!) It will help you sell next time! Maybe the next ones will take care of you like we did! Hope so, because you were once a good friend of mine.
The beautiful trees that shaded our yard are gone--victims of emerald ash borers--piles of sawdust dotted the lawn from the stump grinders. The grass was completely burned out. The flowers that I had tended so lovingly were thirsty, dead, or not in evidence. Weeds popped out here and there. Obviously these buyers were not at all interested in the outside appearance of their yard.
The house itself looked pretty much the same, but what can you do to a brick home?
The houses on either side had continued to decline. There was a reason we moved--more obvious now than when I was there every day. My comments to the homeowners association have gone unheeded--the feedback from our realtors about the neighbors was not favorable while we were trying to sell.
The house was just another sadly neglected home, looking more so due to the TLC of other homes. It was not our home anymore. We are very much "at home" where we now are. I cannot imagine living there again--even if the houses on either side were being maintained to the neighbor hood standard, they are much too close. It seems small and crowed there now--not because it is, but because my definition of "space" has changed.
It was a house in which we lived. We enjoyed our time there. It met our needs. It is not ours anymore, nor is it of any interest. I sort of feel bad about that, as the house and the land were friends of mine. I felt slightly guilty about digging up starts of my perennials when we were moving--which have done well here by the way. I should have just dug the whole thing up--and not wasted time with tiny delicate starts. It is obvious that the buyers would not have noticed or cared.
Sorry house. Maybe you will have owners who love you again one day--but it was time for us to move on to another home in need of our touch. You will always have my most beautiful bathroom! (No one would be crazy enough to tear that out, and I am not sure I have the energy to invest again in that type of project!!) It will help you sell next time! Maybe the next ones will take care of you like we did! Hope so, because you were once a good friend of mine.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Bulbs
This week I started to create next springs garden. I got a deal on bulbs! I need to choose them carefully, as I can only plant things that the deer don't like. It is bonus if the rabbits also find the plant disgusting, but that rarely happens. Seems however that neither deer nor rabbits are fond of daffodils or grape hyacinths--so each year I have added to my collection. I also bought some more allium, as they leave those alone too--smell like onions, but look kind of neat.
Each (used) house we buy, I wait anxiously for the spring to see what is planted. Don't know why I bother. There is never anything planted! NO bulbs, no hostas, no lilies, no perennials. Just the same shrubs that needed trimming when we bought the house. I am convinced that I am either a flower nut case, or we always buy "fixer uppers"--and people who sell these types of houses are not gardening types.
I have been fighting the battle of the creepy weed(literally) most of the summer. Think it came in with the mulch. It was there last year, but I didn't have time. This spring it got completely out of hand. It is similar to an "air fern"--but has these roots that form a system--so you have to dig it out. I have been digging all summer...Could be in China by now, except that this particular bed is huge! Every week I go out and assault the ugly weed. Now it only takes an hour or so, not an entire day, so I think I maybe making progress after three months, and know that I cannot ignore the ugly weed for even one week! While I have my back turned , the weed is creating something akin to the metro system under the dirt--and pops up down the line.
The dwarfs in Snow White sang that little song "dig, dig, dig, dig, dig the whole day long. I think they must have known about the ugly weed. I just hope that it rests under the snow! I am getting tired of digging.
So about half of the bulbs are planted, and it is only early September. I am feeling smug. Not like the year I bought a hundred bulbs and it rained for months, or the year that I picked out the pretty pictures and mail ordered the collection to "arrive at the optimal time for planting"--a much bigger box than I thought that I had signed up for, requiring many more holes that I wanted to dig in the chilly fall drizzle. I have lived and learned. November is not the best time to plant your bulbs (although the package will lead you to believe that this is possible!)
Tomorrow is supposed to be beautiful too. So, I will plant more bulbs. Then maybe I will stop for the year...Unless I find a real deal on a few hundred jonquil bulbs!
Each (used) house we buy, I wait anxiously for the spring to see what is planted. Don't know why I bother. There is never anything planted! NO bulbs, no hostas, no lilies, no perennials. Just the same shrubs that needed trimming when we bought the house. I am convinced that I am either a flower nut case, or we always buy "fixer uppers"--and people who sell these types of houses are not gardening types.
I have been fighting the battle of the creepy weed(literally) most of the summer. Think it came in with the mulch. It was there last year, but I didn't have time. This spring it got completely out of hand. It is similar to an "air fern"--but has these roots that form a system--so you have to dig it out. I have been digging all summer...Could be in China by now, except that this particular bed is huge! Every week I go out and assault the ugly weed. Now it only takes an hour or so, not an entire day, so I think I maybe making progress after three months, and know that I cannot ignore the ugly weed for even one week! While I have my back turned , the weed is creating something akin to the metro system under the dirt--and pops up down the line.
The dwarfs in Snow White sang that little song "dig, dig, dig, dig, dig the whole day long. I think they must have known about the ugly weed. I just hope that it rests under the snow! I am getting tired of digging.
So about half of the bulbs are planted, and it is only early September. I am feeling smug. Not like the year I bought a hundred bulbs and it rained for months, or the year that I picked out the pretty pictures and mail ordered the collection to "arrive at the optimal time for planting"--a much bigger box than I thought that I had signed up for, requiring many more holes that I wanted to dig in the chilly fall drizzle. I have lived and learned. November is not the best time to plant your bulbs (although the package will lead you to believe that this is possible!)
Tomorrow is supposed to be beautiful too. So, I will plant more bulbs. Then maybe I will stop for the year...Unless I find a real deal on a few hundred jonquil bulbs!
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