I was REALLY frustrated with this little  plant stand. Several weeks ago, a strong wind blew it over and several pots were broken. I carefully picked it up and put the shelves back in. I was careful to put SEVERAL pots on the bottom shelf to anchor the thing. I had a tray of Asian Jasmine on one of the middle shelves. Then, again, a week or so ago, a big wind gust knocked it over AGAIN! Another pot broke; everything got tossed onto the patio. AGAIN. But, never again. I took it all apart, threw away the covering and the shelves. And I’m done with it.

 

I’ve been spending lots of time outside, working in the yard, planting plants, organizing the potting bench, re-working beds, that sort of thing.

A couple of days ago, I was planting some new Lantana plants. They are hot-weather hardy, and very sturdy. The ones I bought recently are named “Hot-Blooded Red.”

The weather was nice, and I’d gotten lots of planting done. I have a wheeled, garden cart that I can sit on, so I don’t have to try to get up from the ground when I’m moving from place to place to put plants in beds or dig up  weeds. I was putting those Lantana plants at the right-hand corner of the front of the house. There were three plants, and I was digging up the dirt and getting the small area ready.

I was diligent, working that dirt, pulling up any weeds that had taken root there, and arranging the three plants in the space.

But, I kept hearing, or I thought I was hearing, someone saying my name. It was eerie. It was bizarre. It was quite strange.

“Gayle.” “Gayle.” “Gayle, can you hear me?” “Are you all right, Gayle?”

So, the sound really wasn’t my imagination. But, what? Where? Why?

I finally realized that the sound was coming from the pocket at the front of my overalls. Hmmmm.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and saw, at the top of the screen, the numbers 911.

“Hello,” I said, a little startled. And someone responded, “Gayle, are you all right?”

“I am all right,” I responded, warily.

“We’re just checking on you, and making sure you’re okay.”

Apparently, I had pocket-dialed my phone. And I called 911.

“I AM SO SORRY!” I said, when I realized what I’d done.

“I’m working outside in my yard, and I am fine, and I guess the fabric in the pocket of my overalls dialed the numbers. I’m very, very sorry.”

The young man (and he sounded pretty young), was gracious and not at all angry (it seemed). And, frankly, I think he’ll have a really good story to tell to his co-workers, his family members, and his neighbors.

“Let me tell you about the time this lady (let’s hope he doesn’t say old lady) dialed 911 when her phone was in her pocket, while she was planting flowers.”

I guess I could use a piece of tape to attach an index card (trimmed to fit) to the front of the phone. I’d still be able to listen to podcasts and audio books while I worked. And, I’d be able to hear the phone ring, and could answer it.

I’m certainly embarrassed. I hate the idea that I took up time that a First Responder could certainly have used for some task that was much more important than chatting with me.

It’s spring all over the place! The weather’s pretty nice. Mostly. The grass is greening up. The trees are leafing out!!

And I want to plant things.

So, I went to a nursery. And another one. And another one. And, I’d already been to a couple of them, a week or so ago.

I did some yard work one day. Then, I did some yard work all day, one day. So, then I could hardly move. Just as well; the weather turned a little chilly.

But, Thursday, the day was great! I went to all the nurseries, including the one that’s ‘way out of town.

The basics of the yard were put in place by my dad, so many years ago. There are two large trees in the front yard and two in the back. There’s a hedge in a planter across half of the house. There are ferns on the north, shaded side of the house. I’ve added some things to the bed on the south side of the house. Most of what I purchase are in planters on the patio.

And another one bites the dust. When I came home today (from all the nursery shopping), I found these guys cutting down another great big tree, a couple of houses down from us. It was a casualty of the mega-freeze, February before last. The pale circle that you can see in front of the workers is the small wood chips that the other tree guys made when they chipped down the stump from that tree. The tree shadow you see is from the tree in our side yard. I think those were the only trees lost from our block.

 Ask rain from the Lord in the season of the spring rain, from the Lord who makes the storm clouds, who gives showers of rain to you, the vegetation in the field to everyone.

Last week, hardly any trees were leafing out. Now, this week, almost all of them are.

Yes, I’m a Senior Adult woman who’s been cooking and baking for many years. And yet . . .

I’d been working hard at some sewing and cleaning and house stuff, and I noticed what time it was. I’d thawed some dinner for David, and I checked to see how that was going and then to find what else I should/could add to the main dish. I got out a roll to also thaw, and found some frozen vegetables to add, too.

I checked the suggested temperature and cooking time. I opened a cabinet to get something to put those vegetables on, to bake in the oven, popped them in, and set the timer on my phone so I’d know when to go back and retrieve them. Then I went back to that cleaning work.

When the timer went off (and I felt so well-organized to have remembered to set that timer), I went back to the kitchen. I opened the oven to to this:

The item I used to hold the broccoli tots was the glass lid to one of my large casserole dishes. And while I’m pretty sure that I’ve baked things in that casserole dish, even with its lid, I’m guessing that the lid itself wasn’t really intended to be a baking utensil by itself.

So, here it is: glass pieces and shards, from the top rack to the bottom of the oven. And broccoli tots from the top shelf to the floor of the oven. I turned off the oven and left it open to cool. I went back a while later, removed all the glass, all the tots, and threw everything away.

And, obviously, I also need to clean the oven.

I removed the oven liner, which was covered in shards. I guess I might have been able to wash and clean all the shards off, but that seemed maybe a little dangerous. I threw it away, too. I had a second liner still in its box. I got that new one, and trimmed it to fit the oven floor.

There were more broccoli tots in the freezer (the last of the broccoli tots).

I got another glass container. I really felt a little anxious about this one, but I kept reminding myself of all the other things I’ve baked, successfully in the oven (meat loaf, bread), using that same glass pan.

I turned the oven back on, put the pan, with tots, in, and set the timer on my phone. Again. I kept going back and looking, and everything was fine. The container didn’t smash into shards. The broccoli tots baked nicely.

The oven liner was the last on in the box, so I ordered more.

I often see new books at the library that catch my attention. Sometimes, I’ll pick up a book that looks interesting and leave it sitting around my house for three weeks, when I should return it. Or, I could renew it, even if I’ve not ever opened it, but think that I might.

If no other library patron asks for that book, I could even renew it for a second time, and keep it for NINE weeks. At which point I really do have to return it, whether or not anyone wants it. But then, I could go back in a few days, check it out again, and, really, could renew it twice more, but by that time, I’ve come to understand that I’m not truly going to read that book.

A couple of weeks ago, I was headed to the computers (to see if I’d remembered to turn in a book), when I passed a display of books. One of them caught my eye:

I thought this looked interesting.

THE CALLIGRAPHER’S SECRET

Rafik Schami

And the title page says: Translated from German by Anthea Bell

It seemed a little odd that a book that’s set in the Middle East (Damascus) would be written in German. Maybe it was written in a Middle Eastern language, then translated into German, and now is available in English.

To begin with, books that aren’t originally written in English and then translated into English, sometimes have a different rhythm to them. And for the first few pages, I needed to adapt, I guess, to the different cadence. And the whole different culture and descriptions and, rhythm, of the sentences slowed down the reading. I’m getting better at it.

And it is a very thick book.

I feel like I’ve been reading and reading and reading, and I’m not close to being halfway through it.

From almost the very beginning, I’ve known that a woman was going to run away. The reasons haven’t been explained, but I know it’s going to happen. And whenever I think It’s going to be soon. She’ll be gone before long. I’m wrong. She went to work with as a seamstress. She’s gotten married. She seems to like her husband. I don’t know what’s going to make her leave. I just know that she’s going to leave.

I was several chapters in before the Calligrapher showed up. And, based on the title of the book, he seems like an important element to the story. But, so far, there’s no connection between him and the woman who is the female protagonist. I’ve seen her name from almost the first page of the book. I’ve seen her as a child, as a young adult who worked for the most important seamstress in town, and now as a wife.

Obviously, I’ve got lots of pages to go.

I’m intrigued. Maybe she’ll leave and never return. But it seems like she’ll be back on the pages of the story, even if it won’t be with her husband or other family members.

And, really! what IS the Calligraphers Secret!?!

I will have to let you know.

I guess all sorts of interesting things have happened in Damascus.

The morning temperatures have been a little frosty, in the 30’s early in the morning, but the afternoons have been springlike. Well, for a couple of days. But Thursday and Friday had afternoon temperatures in the mid 70’s, which is perfect weather for working outside.

First, I hung the white pots back on the front porch railing. They come down when I put up the Christmas greenery and bows and lights. They’re back up now, with winter-hardy yellow violas . (Violas are like miniature pansies.)

Next, I put yellow pansies in the bed in front of the porch. Pansies are sturdy flowers, the kind that made it through last February.

I bought the pansies and violas back in the fall, as soon as they arrived in the nursery. There are all sorts of colors and varieties of pansies and violas. I like the ones that have petals that are all yellow, so that’s what I purchased: all-yellow pansies and all-yellow violas.

And, in a sadder situation, the tree next door could not recover from last February’s deep, deep freeze.

The tree is a variety of ash. I tried to determine what the life expectancy of an ash tree is, and I got anywhere from 25-40 years to 250 years. But there seems to be a wide variety of ash trees, some have short lives and others long lives. When I looked up pecan, I got anywhere from 250 years to 400 years, so our backyard should be nice and shady for quite some time.

Yes, it’s one of my favorite passages. I do so enjoy the exuberance of those trees being so excited.

Science tells us that trees truly do communicate with each other in forests. So, I’m imagining that the root systems of the trees near my neighbor’s stump are singing together, also, but maybe something like a dirge.

I was doing some laundry. I’d looked through my closet and picked up several sweaters and pullovers that I’d been wearing when the weather had gotten chillier. (Of course, right now, it’s like springtime outside.)

I gathered up the heavier things and put them in the laundry basket. I also picked up a gray pullover (with a nice tall collar that really keeps my neck warm). I piled them up and then stopped to check their care labels. I very much like the labels that say to wash and then dry. I got to the gray pullover and read, with dismay, the care label: wash in cold water and lay flat to dry.

Nooooooo. First of all, I don’t really have a place large enough to lay a sweater down for hours while it air dries. Whyever would I have even bought a sweater without looking at the care label first?!?!?

Then I looked at the label in the neck of the sweater; the manufacturer. Eddie Bauer. I’d ordered it from their online catalog, and, I’m quite sure, the description of the sweater had not included the care instructions. I’ll not make that mistake again. But, I’d made that mistake now. And the decision I made was to wash and dry the thing, and see how it came out.

It came out great. It looked exactly the same as when I’d first put it in the washing machine. And now, after coming out of the dryer, it looked promising. I tried it on and, TA-DAH! It fit exactly the same as it had before.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that every piece of clothing I purchase that says “Lay flat to dry” is going to come out of the washer and dryer looking perfect. But, I’m avoiding the potential disaster by being diligent about checking care labels before I spend that money. And, if I’m ordering something that doesn’t have the care information listed on the website, I can order it and then send it back if it has that label that says “Lay flat to dry.”

yet I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love. It is as none other than Paul—an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus— that I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains.  Formerly he was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me.

Philemon 1:9-11

Thesaurus.com says “usefulness” is a synonym for “responsibility.” It is, I guess, irresponsible not to pay attention to the instructions for a garment to remain usable and useful. But, if I had to follow the instructions on the sweater, I’d have rarely worn it, knowing that I’d have to to through all the steps of making the sweater clean. Now, I can wear it happily, knowing that I can clean it whenever the sweater needs it.

And, I should also be looking for the useful people in my life, the people who help, encourage, and support other folks.