Wonder of wonders. If anyone isn’t familiar with the weather in Saskatchewan, we have two seasons. Winter, and everything else. And as the snow melts, we’re able to see some of our plants peek out, the ground melts, and leaves begin to poke out and give us hope that indeed, spring is on it’s way.
Last night while I was laying in bed contemplating the move to the new house, I realized that I really like my room! I like the fact that it faces south, that sunlight streams in here and makes the mountain of green greener, that I wake up with sun kissing my legs, that the crystal in the window perpetually throws rainbows over my walls. I like that the lake, the park, is right behind my house. I love the fact that in the summer I can open my window and get a cool breeze off the lake! In short, there are a lot of things about where I live that I love! Why, I asked myself, do I want to move from where I live to a tiny house (YAY) with a huge yard (YAY!) in a neighbourhood that’s as far from the park as can be?
Then I stepped out my door and realized, after walking around to survey the gardens, that the newspaper has not yet been cleared off the lawns. And one of my neighbours, actually quite a few of my neighbours, who have ‘assisted living’ dogs (translate that to mean the people in the rental office are about as smart as some of these dogs to realize that a german shepherd is not on the allowed list, but a rented unit in a community of about 25% vacancy needs every body with money it can get) have allowed their lovely animals to run amok and ‘sow seeds of happy buttons’ all over the grass. Land mines. Lovely. I wonder if they’d fit into the letter box people use to drop their rent cheques off…….ooops, careful. Don’t talk about shooting a horse in public!
Next, at 1:45 pm after catching the whisps of dope from next door (yes, we can smell cheap weed for blocks, even though you may deny it!), I find a lovely surprise has jumped out of the grass and began to grow on my lawn! The Bohemian Beer Can Plant. This lovely little gem was deposited by my neighbour during the fall. When planted, usually by trash (not exclusively white anymore people! We’re a multicultural society, trash can be any race or gender now! HYBRIDS!), expectant of a tree growing, sprouting, and spewing bohemian beer. I grant you, the amount of fertilizer left by the dogs would be consistent of the flavour of this particular brand of beer…. I think, as a rule, people generally try to plant these seeds after they’ve imbibed too much of the cheap dope. And judging by the smell, they smoke a lot of it.
It’s time to get out. If I needed a reminder about why I can’t stay here anymore, the gopher who woke up too early and died, curled in a little ball next to the foundation of the house, trying to find warmth, was the last straw.
Monday, March 9, 2015. The hollyhocks are growing. Growing. They’re actually further along than my seedlings which makes me shout for joy!
Life is like weeding I suppose. You survey what is around you, assess the growth with the die-back, decide what to mulch, and prepare. I’m not as a rule a vindictive person. But as I watch the staff move the piles of snow from one location to the other, stacking it at least 20 feet high, then moving it back the next week to where it was before (this is our rental increases hard at work) I can’t help but think about all the catnip seeds I’ve spread through out the lawns here, and how, especially with regular mowing, there should be tens, maybe hundreds, of cats both domesticated and feral, rolling around in the grass, pooping and peeing in the grass, howling at night in the grass.
Ok ok, it’s not very hermit like. And karma is a pain.
Every time I see catnip, or a beer can, I’m reminded that there is always something better around the corner…or under the snow.