IF it was cold outside,maybe low 40’s or 30’s like it should be, I would be inside knitting

IF the ground was covered with snow, I would be curled up in a chair reading Henry Mitchell or another favorite garden writer, and in my head the garden would be all dreamy and perfect .

IF the ground had frozen at all I would have already winter protected the few plants I have that need it ( 2 rose,s a bignonia vine, a daphne and guara if you care ) and moved on to perusing plant catlogues and planning  wild new gardens

BUT , alas, it has been steadily warm and pleasant outside, forcing me out of guilt to tackle a project I meant to leave until spring.

This morning , in a very grumpy drag my feet sort of way, I headed to out “fix” the compost area.

It all started with the shed we are getting that will now live where the swingset has been for 15 years (actually more than one swingset  over that time in case you were worried about the safety of the children). The girls were furious that the swings were going, but Bill said they were too old for swingsets and would get over it. In their defense . they did sit on the swings lots and chat or ponder the world. I am with them,it pained me to take it down for all the reasons you would think plus one more : it was the very first project I EVER did here taking out the grass laying pea stone and edging , placing the swingset and the lilcac bed behind it. Very sad to have it gone.

Anyway, we cut the darn thing up with a sawzall, but as we were it occured to me that the big section that was the tower leading to the slide would be perfect as a new composting bin if  lain horizontally. So I made Bill leave it intact and set my plan for the spring. But it was just sitting there, and I really could not come up with any reason not to do it now. So I did.

The project was multi-advil one, involving first re-locating about ten linear feet of the 20x 5 foot pile so we could get the structure in place, moving the amazingling heavy tower 20 feet  by flipping it end over end , making the sides from boards scattered all over the yard, then re-placing the compost that I had moved which was now blocking the path to the back. Ow.

The compost moving went like this….

Then with CJ’s help I moved the tower and we managed to only crunch one dogwood bush .While I screwing  in the boards,I  had to take a break to run and answer the phone. It was Bill, he said , and I quote, “Be careful out there, you know what likes warm compost piles”. REALLYY BILL!! Tyvm for reminding me I was working in and near snakeville, you are awesome dude.

I put on my big girl pants(, after resolving  to find a way to get him back), and headed back out.

I finished much earlier than I thought I would, and only have left the cutting of the boards that are in the way , and the making of the doors. Not bad.

and…..IF I had not done it I would not have found these

and these

Last weekend Bill and I hosted a large fundraiser for The Pan Mass Challenge( which supports the Jimmy Fund Clinic at Dana Faber) and thus had a crazy few days leading up to the event on Friday. Saturday  morning we left at the crack of dawn for New Jersy to go to  a family graduation party. On Sunday we drove home and Bill got out of the car and onto the lawn mower because he was leaving for Florida at 4 am Monday, follwed by a flight out to Monterey CA wednesday (to see David graduate from the Defense Language Institute) and would be gone a total of another 7 days which is too long to go without mowing.

After a long week that ended with getting stuck at LAX for 14 hours, then a delay in Chicago for 5, Bill crawled home and into bed Suday afternoon exhausted but thankfully having the 4th and 5th off to recover. The big holiday plan was to get in  a lot of R&R  , grill food and consume lots of adult beverages around the pool. BUT, we all know how these things work out here…..

There is a birdhouse mounted on a pole of the fence inside the pool area, and since April there have been two barn swallows that are living in and around it. I have been checking constantly for eggs and nestlings but so far: nothing. The running joke around here is that they are our resident gay couple, and it’s nice to have a little diversity in the yard. I felt bad for them as they were REALLY REALLY trying to have babies but something was obviously awry. Well, a few weeks ago a third barn swallow joined up with them, and voila! Baby birds!

Now, against all laws of nature, the three of them guard the nest and happily feed and tend to their brood. …..and guess what?…..we are in their  way.

Usually no one nests in that particular house after the pool is opened. But now that these swallows waited so darn long, we are trying to frolic where they are trying to run a nursery. In their attempts to get us to shove off, they repeatedly swoop down at anyone who is in or around the pool.

City Boy (aka Bill) is not happy. When we went out early on the 4th, he watched with horror as the birds were diving at the girls in the pool. I had already ventured past the nest and was seated on a chaise lounge near the deep end and was only getting occaisonally swooped. He yelled out to us that he was not coming out to the pool and we reassured him that although they did come awfully close, they did not hit you or peck at you so you just ignore them. He was in no way convinced and ducked and ran swearing all the way out to the chaise lounges.

While trying to relax and read my book, I was constantly peppered with his comments and ramblings regarding the birds.

“I didn’t ask to live in a frickin arboretum”, …..”You and your GD gardens and birdhouses, how did we ever end up married ? “…etc etc. Then had to fend off threats. “I am going to take that birdhouse down right now” … followed by..”I am going to get the gun”….which he did.

I begged and cried, and told my city boy to please just sit, which he finally  did , but  he continued to rant on about how he wanted to cement over the whole yard, how he hates wildlife, and how I am ruining his  precious few days off with my birds.

I tried to explain to him how it was only temporary , that I had peered in and the nestlings were almost ready to leave and after they did I would re-locate the birdhouse promptly. He was unconvinced. Eventually I got up and moved all the furniture  on to the deck away from the birds where he continued to sulk until he had enough alcohol in him to settle down.

Today the girls were out swimming  and I had them try to distract mama papa and “uncle” bird so I could see how close the birds were to leaving Bill in peace, but when I  opened the box too fast one of the babies fell out and mayhem ensued. After much squawking and swooping and attempts at actually hitting me, I had to go in and get a golf umbrella to hold over my head while I tried to rescue the baby from under the hosta. Unfortunately the baby is old enough to flap and attempt  to fly so I could not catch it, but  it is still not strong enough for take-off from the ground. Crap. Now the girls are horrified that it probably will not survive .

City Boy is going to be very happy when I tell him, one down, three to go.

“uncle”making sure no one even tries to swing in the hammock

If you look closely you can see baby right in between two bottom petunia blooms

Where mama and papa have stood since the incident

So…. you might remember that I mave have vented (unusual for me I know) about the lemon tree Bill ordered me for Christmas. In his usual last minute haste, Bill tok my list of suggestions and hit the computer running .He just ordered it all, no thought to ,well, really anything, and sat back and waited for it to arrive. As far as the lemon tree goes he did not even keep track of where he ordered it from, and erased any confirmation emails, lest he ruin my “surprise”.

Well, whovever shipped it apparantly failed middle school geography or something,and is entirely unaware that here in the North Eastern part of the country we have a thing called winter. We came home late one night to find a crumpled up box sitting out on the steps in o degree weather with an even more  below zero wind chill. Call me crazy, but maybe the words “live plant” on the box xould have alerted the UPS man to come back when we were home, or maybe even better the nursey could have sent us an email like so many of the good ones do, promising to ship when the shipping weather is safe.

Inside we found the tree, that’s it. No packing material, no shredded newspaper, plastic peanuts, or bubble wrap. No reciept either, or invoice, or growing instuctions.Many of the branches were just snapped off , from whatever sort of mayhem happened during shipping, and most of the leaves were already curling and blackening from being frozen. The leaves that were still attached, and not yet curled, promptly did so and fell off immediatly after. Merry  #$%&*^%  christmas Cheryl  😉

So, I had a tantrum to Bill and demanded he get a refund and or replacement,I  even snapped photos for him to use in his argument with the nursey,  only to find out he had no way to  return it. Just in case you think I am coming down hard on my man, I will tell you this is not an isolated incident . I will  just say “the Tom-Tom birthday fiasco’, and leave it at that.

Usually in these cases he takes the offending gift and stores it in his car for a while, and then when he tires of it I think he lets it out the window on the highway while he is traveling to work. I jest not, he has NEVER returned anything. In preparation for the long car ride to lemon tree heaven, he placed the tree in our unheated garage where it sat for three weeks throughout the christmas holiday.

Sometime after New Year’s Day , I went out to the garage, and in a random act of misplaced concern kindness carried the tree into the kitchen. It sat all dead-like right next to my desk for a while, mostly just to make Bill mad.

At this point the tree had zero leaves, just a sad stick in a too small plastic pot of some kind of planting m edium that despite my best efforts refused to hold any water whatsoever. After mopping the water up for the kagillionth , I headed to home depot, and bought some potting soil and a new pot. Why I even though for one minute the tree would rebound is beyond me. Call it intuition, call it hope, call it  a desperate attempt to salvage the $100, but guess what?

It still has a long road to recovery, I will have to prune it , and probably establish a new leader, but if it can just hang on until spring when it will get plenty of  sun and attention outside I have high hopes for it.   As a gardener failure is just part of the learning process and I certainly have killed and or maimed my share of plants….but maybe, just maybe, I saved this one 🙂

After a long  weekend of  fall clean-up work out in the yard , I  am reminded again how old I am getting and how grateful I am I have help. Thankfully, I have CJ my oldest boy who is starving college student and will do anything for some dough, and Bill who is a super-hero gem of a husband. But, much as I enjoy his help, like all men Bill  has his lovable eccentiricites,( many of which force me to place all of the sharp objects in the house out of reach just in case things get  ugly.)

One of his most endearing eccentricities (if you are the CEO of Home Depot) , is his deep pocket approach to problem solving in the household chore arena. Bill sees a problem, rapidly assesses  what needs to be done to remedy it, then hops in his car and flies off the the store to drop a load of cash on stuff we either don’t need , or that he already has but can’t locate due to organizational dysfunction.Seroiusly, if I took inventory of the utility room, first I might cry, and then I could open up my own hardware store right in the basement.He has a whole stash of extra blades (at $50 each) for a saw he uses about once a year, a wall of fasteners in litle bins that are unlabeled so therefore do not exist in his head becasue they are too hard to find, many little metal bits like screws and bolts etc all in their original baggies purpose unknown, His cable running supplies take up two whole toolboxes and a large carboard box and several plastic bags as well(FYI he is a suit wearing financial guy, not an electrician or cable installer by trade).He also owns every tool most people borrow like tile wet saws, power mitre saw, screw guns, power washers, air compressors, table saw, you get the idea. This all gets overwhelming to me , as I like things neat and organized and hate his stashing habit and his ability to spend large  money on the most useless of items….BUT….one day while out doing some cleanup in the yard, Bill abruptly left for a while, then came back with this

The Chipper

Honest to God, my heart was beating so fast I needed to take a little lie-down to recouperate! OUR VERY OWN CHIPPER! What a joy!

Now, I hear your warning:   new chipper+ mouthy wife with crappy attitude+ wait? are those bags of lime he stacked in the corner of the garage? =fresh addition to compost pile .Maybe it will be best to tiptoe around Bill for a while, be on my best behavior and such. Duly noted.But… as long as I am looking at it from the OUTSIDE, the chipper is a thing a beauty, a wonder to behold, the love of my gardening life. We have chipped and chipped, and mulched and mulched, then chipped some more. The compost pile is usuable almost immediately thanks to the chipper, and those large stacks of limbs and twigs have all but disappreared, only existing now as the most wonderful and free wood chips for the garden. This weekend, what typically would have taken several days was compacted into two thanks to the chipper (Thankyou Bill) nad now the beds have a rich layer of shredded leaves over them which is a great soil conditioner. I am a lucky girl 🙂

Even though I think I try really hard to keep my obsessions from impacting my marriage, sometimes my “enthusiasm”  causes me to send Bill right over the edge.

I think this time it all started with the fact that I always pick the absolute hottest part of the summer to undertake huge garden renovations for which I sometimes require additional manual labor , namely Bill. He does not want to be my garden chore boy anymore but since we can’t afford staff, and the boys are gone, he is  all I have.

The garden projects this time were

a. Some very large willow bushes I had planted for privacy years ago have to be taken out. The willows are the very definition  labor intensive. They drop their leaves in drought , then grow new ones, so during the course of a year I could rake over there 3 or more times. Their branches are also the first to go in wind, snow, ice, or even if you  just look at them wrong. Grrrr….then I have to prune and clean up the garden they shed all over. Near the back of our property the white pines and maples have finally filled in enough that the willows there can go. The other trees will certainly benefit from the extra water they will have with the willow gone, and should fill in quite nicely. So Bill got the chainsaw, and in a scene I will not even describe we cut down 10 towering willows. ( Death only brushed against Bill by way of  crushing  once and threat to chainsawing off leg twice, not bad. We didn’t even manage to take out the street light or the neighbors children who came to watch the destruction)

Now there is a HUGE hole  leading right to the street and any one who drives or walks by can see the whole back yard and we can see the road again.  Patience is the key here and Bill has none.It will be a while before it fills in and he does not want the neighbors watching him bunny hunt in his PJ’s.

b. the second project was taking out a (again) very large red osier dogwood that has a “thing” ( I will insist to my grave that it caught black spot from the climbing rose that grew through it, but black spot is rose specific so that is not supposed to be true. If it is not black spot then it is just a “thing” because it fits no other disease description I can find). I cut it all down and Bill helped chain saw out the stump , but it left such a depressing gap in my garden. You can see before and after pics below. Bill said it robbed the garden of a great deal of it’s ambiance, and for once I agree with him. I planted a weeping alaskan cedar in it’s place, and Bill commanded it to get growing last night .

before (in fall)

after

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We started to cut up the debris piles for burning and chipping, then decided wouldn’t it be better to just call someone? In some sort of karmic twist, the arborist I hired 3 months ago to cable a birch and prune a pine tree showed up yesterday to actually prune the pines that belong to our neighbor right on the property line. I asked if  we could add “remove debris” to our list and he will also trim some of the willow stumps lower for us too. Hurray.

Then the arborist went off to tackle the neighbor’s pines, and lo and behold, he cut them down sooo much that we can now see THAT neighbor’s yard and lost some shade.

When he comes today I am to direct him NOT to touch the pine on our property, Bill would rather have it take over the garden than loose any more privacy.

Last night after all this trauma, when Bill came to bed,  in my twisted form of pillow talk I said, “Hey I was thinking of  moving the whole rock wall in the front of the house out about 3-4 feet to accomadate another cedar I bought that will shade the front of the house, what do you think?”

Did  you hear him from your house? I’ll bet you did!!!  I had to listen to an angry and extremely loud (especially for pillow talk) tirade full of all sorts of bad language and admonishments NOT TO TAKE ON ANY MORE GARDEN PROJECTS! etc etc.

I humbly took my pillow and went to sleep in David’s room. He is right and I hate to admit when I am wrong so fleeing seemed like the best option.

All is right in the world this morning, so while he is gone to work I will be pulling out the rock wall 🙂