You know, the kind of week that’s there, and then – suddenly – it’s not. Suddenly, it’s the next week, and the week that it was is no more. Well, that’s what has happened to me.
The weather has been beautiful, and I’ve been outside more than in. I’ve been wandering through nurseries on my shopping trips. You know what that means, don’t you? It means plants. One cannot look at plants without buying at least one. Or two. Or more. Yep. Once plants make the trip home, they have to be put into the ground, into a home of their own. It seems each year I attack one flower bed, trying to overcome the grasses that sneak in overnight when I’m not looking, taking over the bed and making it their own. The bed I did two years ago is now overcome with grasses again, so this year I’m changing my tactics. Maybe I’ll win, maybe I won’t. I’ll be happy if I break even.
Plants are planted. Nasturtium seeds that were stuck into the soil in a half barrel are coming up very happily and in good numbers. I wasn’t sure they would, because we managed to have freezing nights shortly after I planted them. They were good plants – they waited until the weather returned to spring. I am happy.
The grass – that grass in the lawn parts of the yard that is there because we want it – is growing. And growing. Yesterday I mowed until the sun got too hot to continue. Project half done. I’ll finish tomorrow, when the weather says it will be in the upper 70s, not the upper 80s. I love the smell of the newly mown grass. Riding around on the mower gives time for the mind to wander, to think thoughts. I tried listening to music – the sound of the mower drowns out the sound of the songs. Quiet – quiet being a relative term – thinking time is good. Except quite often I come up with new wants, new projects. Maybe not so good.
The lilacs have faded, the peonies are bursting forth. Perhaps this evening I’ll get out and take some photos to share at a later date. The season evolves. Life evolves. Days seem busier, more active.
I have found a charging dock with speakers for my Android phone, so now when I am in the house I can listen to my music without the dreaded earbuds. Husband hates when I have the earbuds in. I think he feels that he’s being ignored. He wouldn’t be far from wrong there. Remember when we listened to music on vinyl records? 78s were a bit before my time, but 33s and 45s. Heaven was when you had a record player with an automatic changer so you weren’t running to put a new record on every few minutes. Then came 8 tracks. Oh my! So much technology! CDs, DVDs, now all those songs are squeezed into this tiny little card inside this small gizmo – the phone that is so much more than a phone.
Speaking of music – the song that has been visiting my mind the past few mornings is “There’s a Bluebird on my Shoulder”. How many of you remember that one? Uncle Remus, Brer Rabbit, Brer Bear? And Molly Bee. Tennesee Ernie Ford. Trips down Memory Lane can be fun until you realize how many years ago that really was.
I think now I’ll share the photos of the Western Tanager that visits us in the summer. This time, I caught him at bath time.