When the overcast lifted and the sun came out, and my house and I were warmed up, thanks to the wood fire that I was oh so grateful to have had the energy to get going — then I looked out the kitchen window and decided that I would wash the glass patio table that had gotten all dirty from rain and wind and leaves.
It was one of those things where you do one little task, which leads to another, and another. I was oh so grateful for the way that happens, which also can’t be counted on. I pulled out the bare and mushy begonia stems nearby, that had been pleading with me through the window for weeks, and so removed their shame. From there I carried my small green trug all around the garden to fill with trimmings of mint, rose geranium, and part of a lavender bush that had escaped the shears back in the summer.
I even repotted a plant! Soon after Christmas Day I had gone to the nursery to see if they still had a little live Christmas tree of any sort, but they were sold out. I had thought a conifer in a pot would be nice by my front door, to get me through the winter. It’s become a pet project to have something in that spot, a plant that is healthy and cheery, and preferably blooming, to greet guests and me when we come and go.
They were sold out of Christmas trees at the nursery, but they did have blooming Kangaroo Paws. I brought one home and switched out the aster right away, but the new plant was cramped — so I moved it into a larger pot where it could spread its roots out more comfortably. This is the “before” picture, though:
All the weeds are pretty right now, because they are all tiny and fresh-fresh green. I can identify most of the peskiest, which in some cases come from seeds or plants that in past years I encouraged to grow in my garden. From that group the ones that I am now dis-couraging to greater or lesser degree are Love-in-a-Mist (nigella), violas, and California poppies.
I pulled dozens of just-up nigella and bittercress out from around other plants that I don’t want to be choked out, and promised myself I would work on the asparagus beds in couple of days, after they have dried out more:
The plan is to remove all the violas, and then spread mulch again. I don’t know what has been digging in there — maybe crows?
My favorite leather work gloves are pigskin, because they are soft and flexible enough not to hinder me throwing wood into the stove, or doing other tasks that require some dexterity. But they wear out really fast, and are expensive. So I ordered two other types to try out, and they arrived today:
The ones on the left are supple enough and mold to my hands, and I think I’ll use them in the house when dealing with the wood and the stove. The ones on the right are stiffer, but they will be fine for carrying cordwood into the garage or house.
For gardening, I use non-leather gloves, because for that I need even more dexterity, but I end up taking them off half the time. I’m thinking of switching to thin vinyl gloves, but I wonder if my hands just have a mind of their own, and want to be in the dirt all the way.
There’s no rain or frost on the forecast here in my corner of the world, but sunshine is predicted. That will be good for my mood, and probably for sleep, too. I think I’ll make it through January again!
It’s has been wanting a good clean-up for months, and I had been hoping for this family assist. We managed to do all the tasks before the rain began, which was the morning that he left.
Christians. I’ve been supremely blessed by various aspects and events of the day…
My sometimes helper Alejandro wanted to come and work this morning, so he could do family things later on. He probably would have come at sunrise if I’d let him, but he was willing to come a little later, and he cleaned up and trimmed the most parched and spent things around the place. That lifted my already floating spirits a few feet higher.
Gladsome Lights 