March 31, 2018 – You’ve probably wondered where I’ve been.

         No, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth.  I will admit I am still having difficulty grieving my Mom.  She was and will always be such a big part of me.  I can’t hide it, I don’t want to hide it, and I must learn to embrace it in a way that doesn’t make me sad. That is one challenge I have been battling.

Then, I have been working on projects, painting insides of kitchen cabinets, cleaning closets, trying to get this packrat clutter under control with the theory: ‘Less is More’.  I’ve made a good yearly dent in it.  I have to learn it is a daily thing, not a seasonal or yearly thing.  It takes a while for this old dog to learn new tricks.

         What I have really been doing is - writing, but not my blog.  Taking a friendly challenge from a lovely friend back in January, I have dusted off my college Novella and I am in the process of re-writing it in order to submit it to a publisher. Big challenge, bigger than I imagined.

WHEW.  Talk about work.  After about three weeks, I realized I didn’t have a clue how to “re-write” it to get it into something good enough to put before an agent or publisher.  As a result, I’ve spent the better part of February and March reading all types of writing critique books way into the wee hours of the morning. 

         I’m amazed at what I have absorbed and have now looked at my little Novella with discerning eyes.  I am asking myself:

Is it fixable? Don’t know yet.

It is a story-Yes.

Has a climax and has an ending – that’s good.

My characters are a bit thin. Fixable.

I do have a handle on dialogue, needs to be better.

Manuscript typing – got that under control.

A theme, a concept, sub plot - not so sure.

Marketable, who knows.

My husband made a comment about my typing the other week that I will share with you:

“If I could type like that, I’d be a writer to.”

That gave me a smile and inspiration – typing is the easiest part!

         The biggest thing I have learned is an author has to crank out four to eight attempts before one is publishable.  It is a learning process by doing.  So, I am doing and being remiss at blogging.

         A few of my followers have asked, “Where are you?” Above is my explanation.  Thank you for visiting my blog and following it and I hope you continue to do so.  I do love your comments, keep sending them to me.

         I am here, and I will renew my blogging as much as possible while I learn how to be an author, and then hopefully a ‘published’ author.

         Even as this blog hits the universe today – I am at a writer’s workshop.

Stay well and Happy Easter to you on April Fool’s day tomorrow.

March 30, 2018 – Disappointment and surprise in the garden

         Wire grass!  I have to admit, it has worn me out and I give up.  I am going to “let it go home to Mombasa,” in a give-up on something when I have tried my best to get it to work. [I am alluding to the scene where the character, Karen Blixen, in the movie Out of Africa is standing in the rain and the dam is breaking and she stops her natives from shoring up the dam and acquiesces to letting the dam dissolve into the water flowing to Mombasa.]

         Well, that is how I feel about the ugly green rectangular well house in the front lawn. I hate it. Everyone on our street hates theirs – as that is where the health department placed them in relation to our septic system and leach fields.  First, I tried shrubs around it to camouflage it.  That worked okay until the shrubs go so big my husband could not mow around it. Those were yanked out and I cut out the sod, which was predominantly wiregrass and built up a two-foot wide garden around the square well house.  I tried spring tulips and iris.  Still, the wire grass persisted. It has been a running battle with the wiregrass for several years now.  You can’t spray it to kill it or deter it in any way that I have found.  It simply re-grows or sweeps in from the lawn similar to Kudzu.

         The last round – a few years ago – I put out 48 orange tiger lilies. The well house garden looked good for the few weeks around the Fourth of July for a few years.  But, still, I was weeding every month trying to keep the wire grass from encroaching.

         Then, last October, the gardens were neglected for almost a month because of my tending to my Mom’s house, breaking down her household and cleaning out the house and getting it ready for market.  Nothing was done down here for one month, then another month.

         That was all it took; two months of wire grass and swoosh – thick as an expensive Mohawk carpet right up to the well house and even mounding up in waves, as it wants to swallow the well house whole.

         Underneath that luxurious mat of wiregrass were 100 or so orange tiger lilies asleep through this wet winter. Walking the dog, I have noticed the bulbs glossy green foliage poking up out of the wiregrass mixed with contrasting clumps of soft lamb’s ears.  I studied the wiregrass knowing I would have a battle on my hands in the spring.

         Yesterday was the skirmish with the wiregrass carpet and it won.  I sat back on my heels after I’d weeded the henbit and other succulent weeds that love to run and take over the four-inch growth of the lilies and around the lamb’s ear clumps.  Two hours and all that I was able to accomplish was pulling the succulent weeds out of the well house circle. I netted a full wheelbarrow of weeds and came to a realization. “I am done with this garden.”  The now tan wire grass has a few little green tips protruding, but when you try to pull it out – it is fixed as if in cement.  I stood up and dusted off my knees and with hands on my hips I finally said aloud to no one but myself, “Forget it, let it go home to Mombasa”.  I’ve knocked my head against this problem for several years now and it is not worth the time and effort.

         It is always hard for me to swallow failure.  The rest of this season, I will be merely going along and cutting the wiregrass down, by hand in and around the lilies so that they successfully bloom and then allow the stems to mature.  In the late fall I will take a pick axe and dig up the lilies and plant them somewhere else and then leave this well house unadorned and UGLY for rest of my gardening days.  It is not worth the effort – I have to chock it up to failure.

         I walked around to another part of the garden hoping to find something to cheer me up after such a failure.

         It didn’t take long.  I went down to the Zen garden and found my Siberian Iris are coming up nicely.  I was delighted to find the Colchicums that were planted two years ago making a showing. [See my October 10, 2016 – Surprises in the Fall Garden - blog for the history of these bulbs.]

         I planted these in the fall of 2016 and in the spring of 2017, I could hardly find them.  I wasn’t sure if moles had eaten them or possibly deer.  I spotted only a handful of leaves and was about to yank them out. But, my sentimentality got the best of me and I thought, the few that are left, might actually get bigger in a few years.  Let me wait and see.

         Fast forward to yesterday.  Lush strappy green leaves, I counted 18 or 20 when I had planted 28 [to match my calendar birthday].  WOW, how nice – I hope to get a lovely show this fall when they show off their pretty pinky purple petals.

         My big failure was softened by a lovely surprise.  That is the nature of the full cycle of a gardener’s life; a disappointment on one thing, then a lovely surprise from another.

Even though I have been gardening now for decades, I’ve got to learn to take it all in stride and press on with renewed optimism.

Happy Easter to you.

A fresh spring brings forth fresh optimism

in this old gardener.

March 29, 2018 – The Foot-in-the-Door Job Interview

This little treasurer is the result of a writing class prompt.  We had to shout out three things – with little time to think.

I blurted out for profession:    Bartender

Location:                                The Whistling Oyster

[at one time an actual restaurant in Ogunquit, Maine]

Item:                                     Cocktail shaker

Prompt:  Write something with those three items.

The foot-in-the-door job interview

        “Sir, I’m Nikoli Costas.  May I have ten minutes of your precious time?”

        “You’ve got five,” he answered carefully looking the young man up and down considering the intrusion.

        “Let’s split the difference and say seven minutes, I’ve been admiring your new lounge here at The Whistling Oyster and I want to be your bartender.”

        “Experience?”

        “Two years, year-round at the Oyster House in Bangor, Maine, I’m a sophomore at the University of Maine, business major.”

        The owner didn’t comment he was still looking at the handsome college kid and his eyes were drawn to his unusual vest.

        “I see you are admiring my vest.  Yes, Sir, I had it made special for The Whistling Oyster.  Grey brocade with oyster print, perfect for your establishment.  I had two made, so that one can be laundered if it is soiled.  I hand sewed the pearls in the oysters myself,” he said proudly, but with a sheepish smile.

        “Go on then, give me your elevator speech,”  said the owner who settled down on a dusty barstool in the under construction lounge that would highlight a piano pit with seating for 40 and the new bar increased to 30 seats - all with a view of the crashing waves on the cliffs.

        “I’ve taken the liberty of bringing my own gear, as I know you are under construction and have no liquor in stock at the moment.  Give me a moment to set up, Sir, and I will prepare five cocktails I have created  just  for you.”

        “Very well, get your stuff, I’ll be back in a few minutes, my manager needs to meet you,” he said and walked away. She will love him. This kid is eye candy.

        Nikoli pulled his rolling plastic tub through the door and behind the bar. He put his cocktail shaker to one side and dumped a bag of ice into a large stainless steel bowl. He set five specialty glasses on the bar and arranged the rest of his gear behind it.  

        Next, he pulled out a manila file and staged his cost analysis cards and nametags for each drink. Lastly, he held a white kitchen timer in his hands.

        The owner and his wife returned and sidled up to the new black marble bar in front of the various glasses.  The wife smiled at her husband with a nod of approval.

        He reached over the bar and said, “Mrs. Wheeler, nice to meet you, I’m Nikoli Costas.”

        She rose a bit in her seat, shook his hand and then settled back down.

        “Ready?” Nikoli asked and set the timer to seven minutes and placed it so that the owners could see the time face. It started to tick softly.

        Nikoli started his presentation.

“I think, when you have A Whistling Oyster you’ve got to have a pearl.” 

“You start with a sugared rim,” he turned a martini glass into sugar and set it before the wife.

“Ice, blue Sapphire gin, blue curacao, shaken well,” he said as he shook it over his head for added drama.

He long-poured the drink into the waiting glass with a flourish.

“Macadamia nut as the pearl. There you are, The pearl - blue of the ocean in your glass, sweet rim, subtle gin and that cool fresh orange taste.”

“Your profit margin on this drink is listed on the card. I’ve taken the liberty of doing a cost analysis based on the current alcoholic bureau’s price list and quality ingredients.  As you can see, this is beautiful as well as a profitable drink.”

The wife picked up the card and handed it to her husband for his review. She sipped the drink and smiled.

In the next few minutes, Nikoli made four more drinks with his running commentary and pizazz setting each out on the bar for their review.

He paused a moment and recapped their names,

“The Pearl, Lost at Sea, Puffin, the Mariner, and the Oyster Catcher with the dark liquor float over the cream looking similar to the local bird.”

 He continued with confidence, “I’ve created five more drinks for a 10-drink-summer line up. I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a drink card.  The estimated printing cost is attached,” he said handing it to the owner.

“I believe you plan to open week before Memorial Day, I will report to work the Tuesday before to set up your bar in an ergonomic fashion--”

“DINNNNNG” sounded the timer.

Nikoli brazenly continued, “I want the 4 to 11 shift every day and I’ll be on call to cover your day bartender if he is a no-show.”

Mrs. Wheeler sipped more of The Pearl, and then rose and stretched out her hand.

“Welcome aboard, mate.”

NOTES:  The Whistling Oyster in Perkins Cove, Ogunquit, Maine, was not located on the cliff side – so my description of a new piano bar and lounge is merely my wishful thinking. The Whistling Oyster gift shop is what remains today.  

Back in the 1970s the original Cliff House restaurant [Cape Neddick, Maine] was a low ceiling wooden structure with a piano bar and lounge. When my husband was courting me, back in the 1970s we would sit in the Piano bar. On extremely blustery, rain soaked nights the spotlights targeted at the cliffs illuminated the dramatic crashing ocean waves.  It was a spectacular sight, mixed with music.  That old Cliff House is embedded in my memory. Years later, it was replaced with a modern facility, which to me, didn’t have the same ambiance. Oh well, I’ve got my vivid memories to keep me company.

March 14, 2018 – Fashion twin?

         Today’s Dear Abby Column, “Woman irked when co-worker mimics her distinctive style,” caught my attention. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud – LOL – at “One of a Kind” in Illinois who was complaining that she recently lost weight and a grossly obese woman at her place of work is copying the way she dresses.

         Excuse me!  Jeanne Phillips, the columnist, pointed out that it was a form of flattery – you know that age-old line, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

         Let us stand back and look at this situation with clear eyes.  If ‘One of a Kind’ is a size 10 and the grossly obese woman is a size – let’s put it up there – a size 26 – there is something wrong with this picture and this so-called complaint. 

         First. ‘One of a Kind’ might be still dressing in fat women clothes even though she has lost weight.  ‘One of a Kind’ needs to do a serious re-think of her fashion style and her level of self-esteem. Is she still wearing the fat clothes – now cinched in with a belt or taken in by a tailor?  If so – WRONG on her part. She needs new duds and fast.

Second. Where does a size 26 obese woman find clothes that mirror a small size, like a size 10?  I would like to know that myself; please, someone send me an email and tell me where you can find fashionable clothes for the obese.

Third. Does ‘One of Kind’ actually think that clients or fellow workers don’t notice one person is trim and the other is a big blob in the same outfit? Of course they are probably snickering behind their backs at how ridiculous one of these women dresses? Possibly the snickering is rightly directed at ‘One of Kind’ who is not dressed as well as she could be now that she is trim and ‘One of a Kind’ actually knows this subconsciously, but won’t change her style to correct the issue.

Fourth. Possibly the obese woman has such great self-esteem that when she looks in the mirror she thinks she looks just fine, or in fact, lovely as she celebrates enjoying being in her own skin. That is good for her and bad for ‘One of a Kind’.  There is more to life than being a certain dress size.

Fifth. Does ‘One of a Kind’ have the same color hair and eyes, or poise as the person who is copying her?  I doubt it.  Everyone has a different style – a perfect example: three women lead singers – same gowns worn by each, but each so individual that the audience can differentiate which is which.  If this style copier were your twin sister, you could have a legitimate complaint – but me, a layperson, I don’t see your problem.

Lastly. Possibly both ‘One of a Kind’ and obese have taken pages out of the Career Women’s wardrobe primer and they are both wearing classics or in this case, clothes from the fashion place that ‘One of a Kind’ indicates she has worked in for years.

You can’t claim your own individuality of any classic clothing item – like a trench coat, a black suit with a white top, or a classic navy blue dress.  If there is a rack in the store that has a beige trench coat is sizes from one to 30 – you are out of luck trying to claim your own personal fashion statement as you are competing with the world.

I dress like Audrey Hepburn – all the time, but I sure don’t look like Audrey Hepburn because I’ve stolen some basics, a trench coat, the little black dress and black flats. But, dozens of times in my varied work life I have shown up in the conference room and across the table are women with the same color I am wearing.  I use humor, “Oh, we all must have gotten the memo to wear black with cobalt blue today.”  It lightens the mood. Intelligent women, with style and grace don’t wring our hands and cry and moan and pitch a fit over something so mundane.  We admire how good we all look – short, tall, fat, skinny, old, and young, as well as smart and dumb.

I suggest, ‘One of a Kind’, skip the victim hood of “this is harassment; she should pay me for copying my style, etc.”  Part of me almost thinks this is a HOAX Dear Abby letter.

Here is my two-point advice.  One. Keep a second outfit in the trunk of your car, and change if you think you look like a duplicate. Two. Go out and buy some nice new clothes, not from the fashion house that you both work in.  Obese is probably getting her clothes on discount just like you are.

Or, simply use humor when you show up at work and you think you are looking at your fashion twin, by saying, “Oh, you look fabulous, just like me.”     

March 13, 2018 – Givenchy

         Just the name says it all – style, glamour.  His obituary was in today’s small town paper; a wonderful write-up of his life by The Associated Press.  Thank goodness, our little paper decided to include it.  It is my kind of news, real news – a fashion giant passing.

         I had my own love affair with Givenchy – not in the sense you are thinking - but when Vogue patterns started to carry his designs, I fell in love with him.

         Those designer patterns were more expensive, but I always found a Vogue pattern had a wonderful fit.  Sometimes you needed to pay attention to the yardage and lay out the pattern on inexpensive cloth before you bought your expensive fabric to make sure you didn’t buy too much or too little fabric.  After I went through that process, I would buy top shelf fabric, the gorgeous stuff I seldom worked with.  I would end up with a gorgeous outfit that fit me perfectly.

         My favorite dress was a dolman sleeved two-tone dress I made out of taupe wool jersey and black wool jersey. I purchased an expensive black leather belt to cinch the waist and always wore it with my black onyx necklace to highlight the taupe bodice.  Trust me, that full-length back zipper I sewed in was flawless.  I took such time and care with the sewing process of that dress.  It instantly became the backbone of my wardrobe that winter and many winters thereafter.  That little Givenchy knockoff dress dined in Paris.  Around me in the restaurant were probably real Givenchy’s, but no one assaulted me to look at my label.

         I always felt like a movie star in that dress.  Later I made it in a summer version, white bodice and navy skirt in cotton double knit, and a navy leather belt and spectator pumps to complete the WOW of that outfit.

         Always a fan of his I look for his name among the credits of the costume designer when I watch old movies on TCM. 

         I believe every movie Audrey Hepburn starred in she wore Givenchy: Sabrina, Charade, Funny Face, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and How to Steal a Million with that black lace cocktail dress with matching lace mask. I probably missed a few of her movies, but you get the idea.  They were all delightfully full of Givenchy fashions. I’ve seen those movies dozens of times and will continue to watch them just for the fashion show. Even if a woman never had a chance to wear one or wear a copy of a Givenchy, I believe we all admired his work over many decades.

         I will steal a line from press coverage that sort of sums up what I liked the most about his couturier style, “tasteful clothes that looked timeless”.

         A British reporter once said, “These dresses remind you of the first, best, glass of champagne.”  That is another perfect way to describe his life’s work.

         More wonderful quotes from the master designer:

All a woman needs to be chic is a raincoat, two suits, a pair of trousers and a cashmere sweater.

The dress must follow the body of a woman, not the body following the shape of the dress.

There is not a woman alive who does not dream of looking like Audrey Hepburn.

Luxury is in each detail.

         I am thankful that Hubert de Givenchy did dress Audrey Hepburn in her movie Sabrina, which developed into a lifelong friendship.  He will never be far from our minds, we only need to look to a Audrey Hepburn movie and we will be reminded of his fabulous couturier style.

         I will leave you with a quote from Hubert de Givenchy:

“Life is like a book; one has to know when to turn the page.”

Me, I will always have his page turned down in my book so that I can easily flip back to it and remember him.

March 9, 2018 – French Women Don’t Get Fat

         A friend put me onto the Habitat for Humanity Non-Profit Re-sale store that has a ‘book-lover’ in residence.  The book-lover sorts and displays the latest arrivals and she does a wonderful job.

         I have always thought tossing out a perfectly good book is sacrilege, so strolling through the book section I am delighted that other’s feel the same way and they toss their good reads to this entity and the entity sells them.  It is a win-win for everyone.  The next time I am cleaning out my bookcase, I will drop them off to this entity.

         It is now my once a month treat to slip over to this little book re-selling place and browse.  Few days ago, I spent $4.50 and came home with two hardcover books, one soft cover book, and a collection of 10 classical musical CDs.  The box of CDs had been there three months and every month I thought about buying them and this month I bought them before they “got-gone” as they say here in the South.

         But, this blog is to suggest a good book entitled, French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano, published in 2005 by Alfred A. Knopf, and it can still be found on Amazon – many new and used copies available.

         It is a delightful read filled with discussions about good food, wine, and meal time daily rituals.  She shares her common sense, sage advice, and charming stories about the French people and their love of food and wine.  Just reading it, I didn’t realize how French I think and act at times.  I guess I absorbed that all from my French grandmother who raised my Dad, her first born child, in a French way and I got it from him.

         When Dad wasn’t working hard supporting our family of five, he loved to eat good food, sit back, and relax with company.  Later, when I was married and traveling home for the occasional visit, we always went out to dine at a fabulous restaurant. 

Dad was partial to one particular French restaurant they went to for special occasions, and it was a treat for all of us.  After much discussion of what we were going to order, Dad and I always shared the carefully selected bottle of wine, as my Mom preferred a cocktail.  Dad and I also managed to save room for a wicked dessert.  It was always a relaxing experience, something you don’t get very often these days in restaurants. Now, they want to push you along and get a second and third seating.

The book has an ample amount of quality recipes. But, I find the last chapter one of the best with a three page bullet list of her overall theories.  They are insightful and delightful at the same time.   I’ll share a few with you that sort of ring true for me:

      French women eat and serve what’s in season, for maximum flavor and value, and know availability does not equal quality.

      French women get a kick from Champagne, as an aperitif or with food, and don’t need a special occasion to open a bottle.

      French women enjoy going to market.

      French women think dining in is a sexy as dining out.

      French women will dress to take out the garbage (you never know).

      French women avoid anything that demands too much effort for too little pleasure.

      French women love to sit at a café and do nothing but enjoy the moment.

I think I will try to be more French this year, by stealing a phrase from Guiliano’s book, and making it my summer’s mantra:

In life, we believe the journey is the destination.

March 8, 2018 – My mushroom box has arrived

         Back in 2006, I ordered my first mushroom box kit from a seed and nursery catalog.  It was the year I started picking items on my “bucket-list” and it quenched my overwhelming curiosity on raising mushrooms.  It was a great success and somewhere I have a picture of me in my turquoise satin pajamas holding a box of mushrooms tipped toward the camera showing a fine crop and me with a genuine smile. [Someday, when I get my photo images organized, I might be able to find something!]

         That first mushroom box was a fabulous experience.  I watched little white dots the size of the head of a pin turn into the size of a quarter by the next day ready for harvest.  I cooked mushrooms every-which-way I could; sautéed in olive oil and butter, in omelets, in stir-fry and, I even made homemade mushroom soup.  I sprinkled freshly sliced fresh mushrooms over homegrown spinach salad and I smacked my lips at every incredible fresh crunch of the white button mushrooms.  For several weeks I and my husband were amazed at the entire process.

But, the one drawback, now that I knew what a really “fresh” mushroom tasted like – the store bought little boxes just weren’t fresh enough for me, and I got very picky about buying mushrooms in the grocery store.  You rarely get that “crunch” from a grocery store bought mushroom unless they are in season or unless they haven’t been damaged by heat or cold in shipping. 

This time, instead of the white button mushrooms I ordered the cremini/baby bella mushrooms.  I feel like a little kid waiting for Christmas in March.

         The supplier only ships them at certain times of the year and they are not available from May 1 through September 14.  My box was delivered today, and they have already mixed the mycelium [mushroom spawn] with the compost medium and it is sealed in plastic.  The box has to remain unopened until March 21^st and then I can proceed as instructed on the box.  By then, the mycelium should have run through the medium creating a web of white fibers.

         I have two weeks to wait.  Last time, I opened up the box, clipped the box top flaps upright and I misted it every day in the morning and at night [when I brushed my teeth] and kept it covered to keep out the light.  I have the perfect environment.  My master bathroom closet on the north end of my house is extra cool.  I’ll pick up an inexpensive thermometer to make certain I have the right temperature.  Right temperature and right moisture – I think that is the key to success.

However, I must caution you, my second box of mushrooms wasn’t a success.  Maybe it was the supplier, or how they were shipped, or the weather when I received it.  And if you can’t keep them watered correctly or in the dark maybe that makes for easy failure.  It could have been my second box was damaged by heat or cold during shipment.  It did produce a handful of mushrooms – but not the bumper crop I got the first time.  It was a disappointment, but I am looking forward to this new attempt.

When my mushroom box arrived today, the UPS lady was most curious as she could clearly see the mushroom growing directions on the outside of the box and special handling instructions were required by UPS.  We chatted about it on the front steps and the box was cool in my hands. That is a good sign.  It should stay between 65 and 75 while it is working making all that lovely mycelium.  I’ve stashed it in the cool closet and I am marking my calendar to the March 21st to open it.

Stay tuned – I will give you an update and I’ll get my camera out and take pictures for you – I promise.

March 7, 2018 - 72% of people say they sleep better in a clean house. . .

. . was today’s newsflash in the morning paper.

Clean house?  What is that?  How can you keep a house clean when you actually live in it?  There are the three meals a day to prepare, the bathroom to use and eventually clean, the kitchen to clutter up with in-coming groceries and clean before and after food preparation. Also, the common rooms quickly clutter with newspapers and mail, and the floors are tracked with mud on these rainy days.  Then, even if you don’t have a hobby that messes the house up, you have the inevitable dust on all surfaces, and the windows become dirty from the outside weather and the inside breathing, and if you have a cat and dog, suddenly a household of two increases to four mess makers.

For the life of me, I have never seen every single room in my house pristine at the same time. I would love to see the perfection that you see in the glossy magazines - House Beautiful or Architectural Digest – does anyone actually live in those houses.  It is the phony ideal that we housekeepers have been sold and I am slowly coming to the conclusion it is out of my reach and always has been.

The kitchen is the life center of a house they say, life – yes,  half your life is spent chopping and peeling and stirring and pulling out many pots and pans and later the dishes and forks and knives and eventually sit down to a gourmet respite?  What comfort does that meal give you when you have to wash the items pulled from the multiple cupboards and, especially when we eat with regularity – breakfast, lunch and dinner?  You clean that room three times a day – or even more if you happen to make a snack. And, wouldn’t it be wonderful if the used provisions magically re-appeared in the pantry without my assistance?

Does the bathroom stay pristine?  NO, you have done the vanity sinks, the toilet, and the floor.  Now the shower stall, it looks lovely at this fleeting moment – shining back at you, yet, you now need to take a shower to clean the sweat and dirt off yourself from the half-day of house cleaning.

So, the bed is made - it will become unmade as soon as you slip into it to sleep and you repeat making it every day of your life. Occasionally, at intervals to your standards, you have to take off the comforters and blankets and fold them and set them aside so that you can strip the sheets from the bed in order to launder and remake the bed.

That of course, leads us to the laundry.  When was the last time anyone ever accomplished neatly folding a fitted bottom sheet into something of a concise shape to fit into a linen closet or cabinet?

I need a magical laundry hamper that somehow takes the dirty laundry to the washer. I need a washer that I don’t have to listen for the timer to prompt me to get up and flop the wet clothes into the dryer.  Why haven’t they invented the washer that also dries?  And, a really good inventor would include cleaning the lint filter and hanging or folding the clothes because I can’t just dump the warm-from-the-dryer laundry somewhere and by magic it folds itself or hangs itself and gets all put away in the correct place to be found again when wanted.

Then there is the mud and muck we track in from the many back and forth trips to the garden where we like to sit out and enjoy the weather or where I play in the dirt. Why can’t the floor magically sweep and mop itself?

I haven’t even mentioned the taking out of the trash, or the paying of bills – two more items that need doing every few days.

Yes, 72 percent of the people sleep better in a clean house.  Does that mean they are so exhausted from cleaning that they sleep better because they are exhausted? The research neglected to give us a percentage of people who feel they actually accomplish the goal of a clean house.  That is the flipside of that news bulletin.  Does that headline mean that 28 percent know it is almost impossible and only do enough cleaning for their health and safety?  I wonder when we will see those scientific findings in the news.

Me, I think today, I will draw a few heart shapes in the dust on my delft shelf conveying love to myself and then go out in the sunshine and enjoy springtime. 

The housework will be there – it never ends, but springtime is fleeting.

I don’t dare say

good housekeeping to you,

I’ll say instead – nice weather to you.

March 6, 2018 – PotMaker  - to help save the earth

         The PotMaker has been on my wish list for years and this year I finally bought one as the price had dropped as low as $14.95 plus shipping. I ordered mine from Vermont Bean Seed Company along with some seed.  I notice Lehman’s has them at that price on special and Pinetree Garden Seeds has them at $12.98.  So, if the price has been holding you back – this is the year to go for it.

It is a lovely tool. All hardwood – Fabriquée en Canada par. Nice neat little box with pictures and instructions on the outside.  Feels beautiful in the hand, the wood grain is beautiful to look at.  It is so pretty, you could use it as a paperweight in your office where you keep track of your garden plantings.

You cut 3 ½ by 10 inches pieces of newsprint and wrap it around the large dowel and then fold the bottom edges in, slip the bottom piece over the newsprint and give it a squish and I gave it a few turns.  It says you don’t need to glue or tape – but me, I put a touch of tape on the bottom and at the seam.

I took this morning’s newspaper, cut it up, and made them.  It was such fun and a soothing process.  I had some hydrated coir left over and filled a few of them. It makes a nice little 2 ¼ diameter paper pot that holds a good amount of soil.  I made 18 paper pots, filled them all with hydrated coir, and put them on the upside down cover of a plastic storage container.  I had just emptied out a Rubbermaid Keepers Clear Box this morning cleaning and had it available.  I snapped the bottom over the top that held the 18 pots making an instant little greenhouse.  I can carry it outside when the sun comes out and then carry it back in at night.

Now I wish I had bought my Daddy a PotMaker when he was alive as he raised his tomatoes and peppers from seed and I am sure he would have loved it.  Me, I intend on raising some shallots from seed and also will probably give my summer squash and winter squash a helping hand this year and raise them from seed and plunk them in the garden.

I won’t have to scrounge around for little plastic pots anymore as I can now make as many as I want from my daily newspaper for free.  Free is always a good idea.  Maybe every few days I can cut the strips and set them aside for when I need to make pots.

If you have been skeptical and have wondered about the PotMaker, take my word for it – it is a lovely addition to your garden tool box.

         I didn’t find much history, but I did find this was invented by Otto Richter, Canada’s largest herb grower. A clever man, I am impressed.

Happy Growing to you all.

[And, no, you can’t borrow it!]