Being Home

It's been the most common questions. "Didn't you hate coming home?"

No. I was done being on vacation. I was ready to come home.

Ready to go back to work, not as much. But it's been much less painful than imagined. Perhaps since I'm not working 5-6 12 hour shifts per week.

What I am ready to do is get my house in order. The status of my yard pummled me as we drove into the driveway. Boring, unkempt, and sloppy. I've always wanted a nice yard. Not perfect or a showcase; I know little about plants and less about keeping them alive. But I want to enjoy looking at it. I want a sense of pride when others compliment it. And Kevin and I want to have a space to BE in the yard. One that will accommodate dogs and future ankle-biters.

In order for this miraculous occasion to occur, I have to do something I hate even more than yardwork.

I have to spend money on it.

It's not just as simple as pulling weeks and killing blackberry bushes (rotten suckers). Sweat equity alone won't cut it. I've got to spend money on plants that may possibly die, therefore being a waste of money. As my mother before me, I want something that costs me money to last FOREVER. Including a plant.

Stop laughing.

But I'm inspired. By the sunshine, by the beautiful yet simple gardens in Ireland, and by the sister-in-law's lovely new backyard and porch. It's not fancy or overwhelming. Just a lovely porch with nice patio furniture and some pretty flowers. I spent all last summer wishing for a nice place to enjoy the sunshine with my husband and dogs. Damnit, this year I'm going to have it.

First off, the front yard. Anybody who has seen my backyard understands the best option would be to set the sumbitch on fire and start over. As my neighbors would prefer to not be evacuated, we'll try something less invasive first. But a small, tasteful inferno has not been completely eliminated. So we'll dress up the porch, place trellis-work below to keep the cats out, new dirt, some mulch, some flowers. And a garden gnome for class.

Piece of cake. But I'm inspired, so have pity on my poor Sugarbear. It's the Forth of July, and he's working in the yard. Should I bribe him with a new big-boy grill? I'm thinking about it.

Kisses
Jenny