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dragonlady7I am having odd chest-cold symptoms-- my trachea has that almost itchy-tight squeezed feeling I remember from when I was little and had asthma, and I have that very tight, unproductive cough in response to the unpleasant tickle in my chest. But it feels very localized, kind of a tight knot just at the point where my trachea branches-- inasmuch as I can pinpoint anything inside my chest cavity, of course; naturally it's half hypochondria, but it's very annoying, and of late when I breathe it squeaks like my father's wheezes when he's bad.
So it's annoying, and has been making me prone to self-pitying loginess, but for the most part I must admit I don't feel bad at all. The bleeding is less ridiculous, as well. I am glad I worked in the Club yesterday, though, just because I couldn't have dealt with that and also with closing Torture Bar. Ugh.
I was good today, and useful. I am feeling a bit of a failure as far as the garden is concerned: I actually just never got around to planting half the seeds, and of the ones I planted, more than half never came up. Violas, strawberries, columbines, galliardia, and tithonia all yielded precisely nothing at all. Of twenty bean seeds, I got about two sprouts, and slugs ate them. I didn't get around to planting either kind of poppy, or many of the peas, or any of the zinneas I didn't start indoors, or the sun-n-shade-mix-free-seeds pack that Burpee gave me. I never replanted lettuce or radishes. I never harvested the radishes and am now utterly baffled how to tell when they're ready.
And the cucumbers-- I started four indoors, moved them outside, and they all lay there yellowed and wilty through a lovely cloudy rainy spell that failed to perk them up. Last week I tied them up with twine and they're still grimly hanging on to life, still yellowed and unhealthy but one set a blossom yesterday, so, who knows. I also planted a bunch of cucumber seeds in the mound with them, hoping that perhaps they'd be more vigorous, but two weeks later there's not so much as a sprout despite diligent watering, so, bah.
But today I labeled all the pepper plants with more permanent labels, and also bought four more tomato cages-- massive ones, as the tomatoes I started are the indeterminate sort, which means they keep growing even after they fruit. I think one of them is about to set a blossom, which would mean that I am awesome. However, it is too soon to tell.
The irises I divided last year obstinately refused to flower, mostly, but I did get six more blossoms than last year, all told. This is not that impressive, as last year I only got one blossom. The daylilies Mom gave me for my birthday are not showing any signs of blooming, but I just randomly discovered that the mystery plant behind the garage is actually a nice Stella d'Oro-looking daylily, bright lemon yellow and mildly fragrant. What it's doing there in the shade I could not tell you. I'm going to move it once it's done blooming. It's healthy and vigorous and having a blast there in the dank full shade, however, which mystifies me, as they're supposed to be full-sun plants that rather like the dry. Who knows.
And I've done a bit more work on the brick walkway out front. Now I'm nearly done cutting the sod for the new garden beds between the walkway and the house. I don't know what I'll really put into them. I don't have nearly enough annuals. I should go buy more. It looks like my theme out front is purple and white-- the clematis jackmanii Katy bought me last year is supposed to bloom dark purple, though I've yet to see any sign it's ready to do that--- not that I mind, mind you; it's miraculous the thing lived, and it's now happily about six feet tall climbing some twine on the porch with its weird little petioles. So I bought some deep purple petunias, although I am really not a petunia girl-- purple ones and cream ones, because nothing else was appealing. I may also pick up some bright gold marigolds, because nothing says "clash class" like purple and yellow.
I feel like I've missed the boat a bit, as it's growing late to be starting any plants now. I get the feeling like I ought to have done all this about two weeks ago. But I don't have anything for the back garden bed, and I'm still not done cutting the sod out front. Next year! Next year I'll have the sod already cut and won't have to invest so much time making the beds in the first place-- I can just cultivate a bit and then plant. But oh my goodness, "next year" is an awful lot of commitment.
Am I really still such a short-timer in my own life?
But anyhow, I ought to do a picture post sometime soon. My yard is really very pretty, although as I look at the neighborhood around me I notice that my idea of what's pretty is a great deal more raggedy, disorganized, haphazard, wild, and overgrown than anyone else's. But I like it when things are just a little bit overwhelming and overflowing and not quite precisely where they look like they were supposed to stay. The grass is a bit long now, and some of it's actually going to seed a little, and I lay in the hammock with the tall seed fronds tickling my fat thighs through the rope mesh, and sighed because it seemed just heavenly. When I was little my dad would sometimes cut the grass with a scythe. We would make tunnels in the long grass that reached above our heads, when I was very small. We never wore shoes, nor pants neither half the time, and the dandelions left sticky bitter-tasting stains on our hands, and a single tasseled strand of grass was a magic wand to tease a cat with, and then as the sun went in the fireflies would come out of the overgrown places, out of the cornfields and the berry bushes and the woods. They don't live in lawns and groomed places; they only live in the tall wild places where they can hide all day.
My neighborhood is not the kind of place fireflies live. I have not seen any since I moved to Buffalo. And my tiny yard is not going to provide them with a habitat. I should probably mow the lawn tomorrow or Mrs. Bob will call the health inspector again.
So it's annoying, and has been making me prone to self-pitying loginess, but for the most part I must admit I don't feel bad at all. The bleeding is less ridiculous, as well. I am glad I worked in the Club yesterday, though, just because I couldn't have dealt with that and also with closing Torture Bar. Ugh.
I was good today, and useful. I am feeling a bit of a failure as far as the garden is concerned: I actually just never got around to planting half the seeds, and of the ones I planted, more than half never came up. Violas, strawberries, columbines, galliardia, and tithonia all yielded precisely nothing at all. Of twenty bean seeds, I got about two sprouts, and slugs ate them. I didn't get around to planting either kind of poppy, or many of the peas, or any of the zinneas I didn't start indoors, or the sun-n-shade-mix-free-seeds pack that Burpee gave me. I never replanted lettuce or radishes. I never harvested the radishes and am now utterly baffled how to tell when they're ready.
And the cucumbers-- I started four indoors, moved them outside, and they all lay there yellowed and wilty through a lovely cloudy rainy spell that failed to perk them up. Last week I tied them up with twine and they're still grimly hanging on to life, still yellowed and unhealthy but one set a blossom yesterday, so, who knows. I also planted a bunch of cucumber seeds in the mound with them, hoping that perhaps they'd be more vigorous, but two weeks later there's not so much as a sprout despite diligent watering, so, bah.
But today I labeled all the pepper plants with more permanent labels, and also bought four more tomato cages-- massive ones, as the tomatoes I started are the indeterminate sort, which means they keep growing even after they fruit. I think one of them is about to set a blossom, which would mean that I am awesome. However, it is too soon to tell.
The irises I divided last year obstinately refused to flower, mostly, but I did get six more blossoms than last year, all told. This is not that impressive, as last year I only got one blossom. The daylilies Mom gave me for my birthday are not showing any signs of blooming, but I just randomly discovered that the mystery plant behind the garage is actually a nice Stella d'Oro-looking daylily, bright lemon yellow and mildly fragrant. What it's doing there in the shade I could not tell you. I'm going to move it once it's done blooming. It's healthy and vigorous and having a blast there in the dank full shade, however, which mystifies me, as they're supposed to be full-sun plants that rather like the dry. Who knows.
And I've done a bit more work on the brick walkway out front. Now I'm nearly done cutting the sod for the new garden beds between the walkway and the house. I don't know what I'll really put into them. I don't have nearly enough annuals. I should go buy more. It looks like my theme out front is purple and white-- the clematis jackmanii Katy bought me last year is supposed to bloom dark purple, though I've yet to see any sign it's ready to do that--- not that I mind, mind you; it's miraculous the thing lived, and it's now happily about six feet tall climbing some twine on the porch with its weird little petioles. So I bought some deep purple petunias, although I am really not a petunia girl-- purple ones and cream ones, because nothing else was appealing. I may also pick up some bright gold marigolds, because nothing says "
I feel like I've missed the boat a bit, as it's growing late to be starting any plants now. I get the feeling like I ought to have done all this about two weeks ago. But I don't have anything for the back garden bed, and I'm still not done cutting the sod out front. Next year! Next year I'll have the sod already cut and won't have to invest so much time making the beds in the first place-- I can just cultivate a bit and then plant. But oh my goodness, "next year" is an awful lot of commitment.
Am I really still such a short-timer in my own life?
But anyhow, I ought to do a picture post sometime soon. My yard is really very pretty, although as I look at the neighborhood around me I notice that my idea of what's pretty is a great deal more raggedy, disorganized, haphazard, wild, and overgrown than anyone else's. But I like it when things are just a little bit overwhelming and overflowing and not quite precisely where they look like they were supposed to stay. The grass is a bit long now, and some of it's actually going to seed a little, and I lay in the hammock with the tall seed fronds tickling my fat thighs through the rope mesh, and sighed because it seemed just heavenly. When I was little my dad would sometimes cut the grass with a scythe. We would make tunnels in the long grass that reached above our heads, when I was very small. We never wore shoes, nor pants neither half the time, and the dandelions left sticky bitter-tasting stains on our hands, and a single tasseled strand of grass was a magic wand to tease a cat with, and then as the sun went in the fireflies would come out of the overgrown places, out of the cornfields and the berry bushes and the woods. They don't live in lawns and groomed places; they only live in the tall wild places where they can hide all day.
My neighborhood is not the kind of place fireflies live. I have not seen any since I moved to Buffalo. And my tiny yard is not going to provide them with a habitat. I should probably mow the lawn tomorrow or Mrs. Bob will call the health inspector again.
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 03:11 am (UTC)The tomatoes you gave me died. Maybe it's colder down here. The peppers and herbs are thriving.
I've got pea plants. Notice that I didn't say 'peas'. That remains to be seen.
I still intend to plant carrots, radishes, and maybe beets. To hell with the planting schedule. With the cracked rib and other things, I haven't finished building the planters, and have two still to plant. Which I WILL do.