Aug 7, 2013 |
I have a plan for my front yard. I have a design on a sketch pad. It’s rough, but it’s there. I have my Pinterest board for inspiration and I keep adding to it, refining my style and ideas. I have Lowe’s constantly tweeting their cheers for my attempts at making my house into a home.
What I don’t have is the wallet to make it happen. But I do have Faith. And it appears God also has Faith in me.
If you’ve been following my Blog for more than a year, you’ve no doubt read the intermittent posts where I start to work on the yard, only to, well, not quite finish it. Or change it up. Or start over.
Lately you’ve prob’ly noticed that I’m not taking on more than I can chew. Boy, has that been a hard task to commit to! Because I’m easily distracted by the tasks that get in the way of the task at hand. It would have been so easy to cut down those low-hanging tree branches yesterday instead of just ducking and raking. But I did it. I stayed focused. I’m starting with the One Task I know I can complete by the end of this week. And not having to deal with branches and clippings adding to the mess I’m trying to clean up.
With just half an hour for two days straight, my front yard has gone
From this
Inside Job
To this
Clean Dirt
It may not look like much to you, but to me it’s beautiful. No more leaves, pine needles, bark and other natural debris. Sure, only the front half of the front yard is done. But that’s the point: it’s done! I didn’t make it worse by getting distracted and rabbit-holing into another project.
Cuz trust me… the proposed next Project is a doozy.
See this tree?
Too Tall Tree
As pretty as it is, it’s too tall for me to care for properly. It’s roots are partially above ground, making the yard fairly uneven. And it leaves these pods all over.
Maple Pods
I mean… all over. And once they dry up, they puff all over when stepped on. Puff, I say, like a dandelion globe. Cute, you say? Sure. When there’s three. Notsomuch when there’s three hundred.
This is the tree that for about a year, we’ve been trying to raise the funds to cut down. Once this tree is cut and the stumps removed (let’s not forget the other tree stump next to it), my hope is to find a way to level the lot. Next spring I want to line the fence with Boxwood or Photinia. I also hope to plant several dwarf fruit trees. I’m partial to Pomegranate and Olive. The aromas, the colorful fruits, the shelter and food for birds. It’s a win-win-win situation.
But lately I’ve been frustrated. Really frustrated. Because This Girl just can’t come up with enough money to take care of it. Even if I can’t afford to plant anything for a year or two, I still need to get this tree cut down. Because if I don’t, my Housing Project will consist of raking the yard. And only raking the yard. Repeatedly.
Never-Ending Debris
There’s only so much of that you can keep reading about, right?! Right.
Of course, I enjoy working in my yard. I’m reminded whenever I do, that I prayed for this yard. Four years ago, I prayed for a house that was fully fenced, landscaped, has an attached garage, indoor laundry room, and similar to my mom’s house. A nice quite neighborhood. Close to family, work, and Dot’s school.
And this is the house I found. This is the house I bought. This is my house.
This is my home. Our home.
So working in my yard reminds me that I prayed for this. Is it okay to cut down a tree? And if it is, how do I get the money to make it happen?
I know to be bold and specific in my prayers so about a week ago I was just that. I had a lovely conversation with God that went something like this:
Me: If I only had the money, I’d cut that tree down. God, is it okay to cut that tree down? The tree that you caused to grow in the yard that you gave me? Can I cut down that one tree, and plant more in it’s place?
God: Tell me what you want.
Me: I want the money to cut that tree down. And while we’re on that subject, I need the four small trees in the backyard cut down, too. They’re too close to the house and I can’t see the rest of the yard when I look out the windows.
God: Tell me what you want.
Me: I just told you. If I only had the money, I’d cut those trees down. But I’d plant more. So, you know. I’ll still take care of the land. As best I can. If I only had the money.
Cutting down this one tree in the front yard seems to be the catalyst for finishing up everything else I want to do. Even if it takes a few years of scrimping and saving and buying lotto tickets until I get there. Once this tree is down, I can start to work on the rest of the yard.
If I only had the money, I’d cut down that tree and get started on fixing up the front yard.
That’s the moment God gently chaffed me. “Take away the first part of that sentence.”
I didn’t understand. It takes money to get things done.
“No,” God said. “It takes prayer.”
I still didn’t understand. But I listened. “Take away the money,” He asked. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want the tree cut down. That’s it. That’s what I want. I want that tree cut down. I’m tired of puff balls and constant bark and leaves and clean up and overgrowth and too much shade and… I want that tree cut down.”
And then I stopped the conversation. I’m not one to tell God how to do His job, but it seems to me that when a tree-cutter tells you it’s gonna take $600 to cut down a tree, then $600 is what I need.
But God said no. God said pray. Have Faith. So I did. I prayed for someone to come over and cut down my tree. For free. Because God told me to.
As I was working on the yard Saturday morning, my neighbor-across-the-street was walking home from visiting with my neighbor-next-door, neither of whom I know beyond their first name and a polite wave now and then.
After a nod and a “Good morning, how are you?” he directed his steps closer and we started talking. I’m not even sure how the conversation led into it, but after a few minutes I was glancing at the Beast and telling him how I’m trying to remove it. He offered his chainsaw. To which I politely declined. “That’s so thoughtful, and I thank you. But me in a tree with a chainsaw is just asking for a major medical situation.”
He laughed. I’d misunderstood. How about, he said, he comes over next week and takes down the branches, then cuts the trunk for me?
How about it? I blinked.
Of course, he continued, there will be a few days of clean up. Tying his goat up to the front fence should take care of all the leaves, and prevent them from getting into the shrubs under my front window.
I blinked again. This time with a smile and a thank you.
When the goats are done, he and his son-in-law will come by and cut up the tree for firewood. I’ll keep the goat droppings to fertilize the shrubs.
I smiled. I laughed.
His wife then walked up as I was praising his neighborly helpfulness. “It’s a blessing to have good neighbors,” she said. We remembered the neighbors we had last year before they were evicted. They were noisy. Dirty. The bur under the saddle of this otherwise peaceful place. I asked how they could tolerate being so close to such illegal activities. “Nothing we could do but pray,” my neighbor said with a peaceful smile.
As I was sharing this story with Pammom (my dear friend and mentor), she rejoiced with me. She and her husband have been pseudo-parents to me for two decades. I love them deeply. Their sons are brothers to me, their grandchildren are my nieces and nephews. And she rejoiced with me over this story, telling me how “Poppa” has wanted to help but won’t be able to do anything for a few months due to his work schedule. Oh, Poppa! The tall tree in front is taken care of. But there are still four smaller ones in the back that need removing. And he’s just the man to do it.
It was then I realized God had planned this all along. He just wanted me to ask. For so long I prayed for money to accomplish my goals, instead of just praying for the goals themselves.
I’ve learned to not limit God. It’s one thing to be bold and specific in praying for what I want and need, but I was telling Him how to accomplish it. Rather than dictate the drive, I’ve realized it’s best just to tell Him the destination. His route is more scenic than mine… with a few adventures thrown in.
He’ll get me there.
One way or another.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
My Housing Project: What a Difference a Rake Makes
Poverty: My Story
TGIF
Hummingbird Moth at Lowe’s
This post is linked up with Shell at
Jul 15, 2013 |
It’s the beginning of the summer season. We’re having a strange-ish summer here in the High Desert. Most days are either filled with a high haze that obliterates the blue sky, or a feeling of humidity we don’t often experience. There have been moments of clear heat, those days that have melted us into the submission that comes with a tall glass of ice water and no more exercise than button-pushing on the remote control.
And in between, in the days that allow for outside movement and recreation… those days are filled with the day job and the errands and the catch-up events like dollar movies and friends and writing clubs and grocery shopping and baking…
What this summer is boiling down to is my List. I have a list of so many things to do in my front yard (backyard, too, but that’s a separate list!). Don’t get me wrong, my yard is turning out nicely with the bits and pieces we’ve been able to accomplish. But there’s so much more I want. Looking at the Big Picture, I easily become overwhelmed.
I’m tired of living on a dirt lot with shrub stumps and broken water lines. I’m upset that the homes around me have color and tidy yards while I have lumpy dirt and a stump that won’t die.
Overgrowth
Corner View
Stumpy
And so, in what will soon be detailed further in a Faith-based Blog post, I was nudged by God to “go back to the beginning”. He reminded me of how I came to own this house I’ve christened Bedford Manor. He brought back those moments of joy and satisfaction when it started to all come together. He inspired me again with the promise of things to come, and the security and beauty of what’s already here.
First Morning
I have beautiful plans to turn my Great Outdoor into a lovely Italian-themed desert landscape. I’ve done my research (thank you, Pinterest!). On my nearly non-existent budget, I’ll be dreaming more than doing at least for a while.
But there are two lessons here, maybe three.
First, I can’t do it all. But I can do one thing at a time. I can’t do it all at one time, and I can’t do everything I want. I can’t build a Koi pond in the same area I want to build a Pagoda or lay a container garden. I have to choose what it is I really want, and how I want it. While I’m deciding the Wants, I need to take care of the Needs. The tree stump that we tried to cut last year keeps growing back. The dying roots are unsettling the ground. So I can’t do it all. I can’t snap my fingers and have my yard insta-scaped. But I can cut back the growing stems. And I can drill the stump and keep it from growing back. Making my yard the garden spot I know it will be begins with one Project. And that one Project begins with one Step.
Second, I have Faith in my yard. I know what it will be like when it’s finished, but I don’t know how to get from now to then. I’m (mostly) okay with that. I have little ideas that will collect and grow and join together and soon my little ideas will be big ideas. It’s okay if I don’t see the Big Picture as a reality right now. Because I can still work on the design. I can plan. And plot. And save. And work. And try. And do whatever little beginnings I can do. God has given me this beautiful house that we’ve turned into a home. He answered my specific, bold, detailed prayer when house hunting. How could I not have faith that He will also answer my specific, bold, detailed prayer for the landscaping? I have to admit… I’ve forgotten to ask Him. I look around and sigh and struggle through the weeds and the dead stumps and the uneven ground and get discouraged. Got discouraged. Not any more! Because obviously this yard came with this home that is such an obvious blessing from God. And I believe He will help me turn it into a lovely yard, not just a dirt lot.
The third lesson is the First. That is, the most important. Stop, Look, and Listen. Stop being in such a tizzy over what needs to be done. Look and see what’s already been accomplished. Listen to that creative muse inside leading me to grand ideas. Go back to the Beginning.
I have simple, inexpensive ideas for my yard. The more research I do, the more I realize how do-able it is. I need to finish off the stump and cut down another tree. Pull out the dead lilac shrubs. Level the lot a bit more. Then comes the fun part. Pallets for a walkway and container garden. Rockscaping throughout the yard to cut down on dirt and dust and heat. A simple Pagoda that also supports a bench swing and grapevines. Pomegranate trees to add color and attract birds. Sugar Maples to splash their brilliance in the fall. A hedge of Boxwood along the front fence, and Oleander on the side. A wood deck under the side trees. A new coat of paint on the trim.
And that’s only half my list. But I’m no longer looking at the whole list. I’m looking at just the first item. The one I can take care of. The one I can start with.
One step at a time. One project at a time. One section at a time. And eventually, the little things will join together and I’ll have One complete yard.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
May 4, 2013 |
I had a beautiful Jade Plant. It started out very small. It was a housewarming gift from my mother over three years ago. The back story is, nearly all my life, my mom’s had jade plants of her own. They’ve come to be a symbol of our family. When we moved, the plant moved with us. So it was only natural for her to buy me my own when I got my first house.
Last summer, the beautiful plant grew bigger. I transplanted it to a larger pot. And it continued to grow. I was very excited. As we worked to beautify and fix Bedford Manor, my Jade plant planted its roots and grew. It was very symbolic.
This last winter was one of the coldest we’d had in many years. It stayed colder, longer. The temperatures dropped below freezing at night, for many nights. I decided the smart thing to do would be to bring my Jade plant in from the elements and protect it. I was wrong.
It sat, lovingly, on the counter between the refrigerator and kitchen sink. As I would do dishes at night, I would remember to water it. I’d talk to it. Take care of it. But after a few weeks I noticed it wasn’t so healthy any more. And then I noticed it. I thought it was a sort of water stain on the succulent leaves. But it wasn’t. It turned out to be what’s known as Powdry Mildew.
Now, Jade plants are hearty, resistant plants. Hardly anything can get to it. Except, of course, this Powdry Mildew. It infiltrates the plant and can even infect the soil. Since the days were now sunny and warmer, I’d placed the Jade back on the front porch. But it was too late.
The Jade Plant.
The desert sun wasn’t as sunny as I’d needed. The warmth wasn’t as warm. My plant began to crumble. The leaves dropped and fell like, well, like leaves. Like the dead leaves that they were. Was there a connection that during this time I was going through some strong struggles at home? Finances and health are always at the top of my Prayer List. And neither seemed to be going in my favor for quite some time.
I did an internet search. “Jade plant disease”. And discovered the nasty Powdry Mildew. Thankfully, since Jades are hearty, there was hope. But it would take an extreme cure. Especially not knowing if the soil itself was infected.
The simple start is to concoct a mixture of 1 gallon water, 1/2 tablespoon liquid soap, and 1 tablespoon baking soda. Pour the mixture into a spray bottle and use it. Every morning. Spray the leaves and plant and topsoil. A very simple, inexpensive remedy. For days I sprayed the Jade. I sprayed the leaves. The trunk. The soil. But nothing helped.
On to the not-so-simple Part Two: I had to cut it back. I had to prune back and remove all of the dead and infected growth, and hope the Jade would survive.
I cried as I cut stem after stem after stem. What was left was just a few inches of trunk, sticking up from the pot like… well, like this.
My Poor Pruned Jade Plant.
Nevertheless, I was hopeful because I could still see the moist green inside the trunk. After a few days, some of the cut ends shriveled up and dropped off. I was heartbroken. This plant that was once strong, big, beautiful, gorgeous… this plant was dying. And it’s possible I killed it by bringing it inside for the winter. Jades aren’t meant to thrive inside except for short periods of time.
I refused to give up. Day after day for the last three weeks, I watered it on alternate mornings. I sprayed every cut, every trunk, every grain of soil each morning and sometimes in the evenings.
It stayed green.
And something else was happening. My finances started to improve. My health started to improve. The anemia is fading. The eczema is manageable. I’m sleeping a little better at night. The bills are getting paid. I don’t know how. But through much prayer, the bills are getting paid.
Last week, I began to pray for my Jade. It’s not just a plant. It’s a symbol of Bedford Manor. Sure. I could get another Jade. But it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be the One that’s been here for all the improvements and changes. It wouldn’t be the One my mommy gave me out of love. Anything else would just be a replacement.
Please, God. Don’t give me a replacement plant. Heal the original one. It’s symbolic. It’s history. It’s mine. Heal the one I have. Please.
And as I went to spray the Jade this evening, I saw this.
Wonderful New Growth!
Wonderful new growth!
My Jade is coming back to life. There are not less than eleven new buds just beginning to bloom. My euphoria is understated. If my treasured plant can endure, so can I.
There is Hope for Bedford Manor.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jul 16, 2012 |
I just published Hidden Files, about discovering some old writings I’d forgotten or pushed to the sides. I found writings I’d intended to publish on a former Blog. It was a blog that had three readers, and lasted four or five months. For obvious reasons, I shut it down and started Frankly, My Dear… which seems to be doing so much better. [Thank you, kind readers!]
I came across these two in particular. I apologize they’re a bit unclear; the only way to capture the entire essence and word structures was to save them as a PDF-photo and enlarge them here. It makes the letters a bit blurred; but still readable.
I was surprised at the raw honesty of these two posts. The cursing of emotions that I was willing to announce. But mostly, I’m pleased because I can now look at it from The Other Side instead of In The Moment. I am no longer That Girl in That Moment. I am now The Girl Who Grew.
I’m at peace with different events in my life. I’m at peace with the absence of what I once thought was love. Now, before you get all riled up in my defense, I will add this disclaimer: I’m very good friends with the “enemy” of these posts. He knows I write about him now and then. We talk often. He was a lousy almost-boyfriend; but he’s always been the best of friends.
And I’m at peace with the experience. It was years ago when I was younger and unsure of myself. I had little to offer someone else, other than, as he affectionately tells me, requests for High Maintenance.
I read these posts yesterday. And I smiled.
Because I’m not who I was. I’m who I am. And even that’s not Who I’ll Be.
And I’m okay with that.
Because I’m living for the future.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
