"We all gon' die!"

So much to do, but where do we start?

I've already let you in on our plans for a new flower garden in the back yard. I got most of the outline dug out yesterday, and though the actual digging was easier than I imagined it would be, the bed itself has taken on a much larger footprint than I originally planned on paper. We are going to have to hire someone to do the heavy work, or it will be years before we get this done. I'm not kidding. At least two years. Any of our neighbors can back me up on this. Once I get the outline completed, we'll call in our landscaping guy. It's nice to have a landscaping guy. He'll probably want his trailer back, though, so there's another chore to finish. Half a trailer load of topsoil has to be relocated, and soon.

Our raised bed kits absolutely must be in place by May 7 so we can get the tomato plants purchased and planted before all the good ones are gone. I probably shouldn't have picked this week to work night shift. It's going to rain all week, though, so nothing would get done outside anyway.

We also have to finalize our plans for an extension of our existing deck across the back of the garage. We know what we want to do, but there's an awkwardly placed retaining wall that has to be worked into the design. At least we have a reputable contractor, so that's one less worry. Oh, and we need to replace our garage door as well.

So. Raised beds need to take priority. Then the new flower bed. Then the deck. Well, the flower bed and the deck can be done simultaneously, since we'll use different contractors. But before the deck goes on, we may need to address the new rain garden location, so we can bury the drain pipe from the garage downspout first. Geez, it shouldn't be this hard. But it's going to be great when it's all finished. And whatever we decide, it's not going to be a catastrophe if we're wrong. I have enough of that kind of pressure at work, thank you very much.

Hurry, Friday

I need to garden.
I desperately need to get outside amidst the maple helicopters and grass clippings and get busy cleaning up winter's detritus. I have yet to clear the dried skeletons of last year's perennials to make way for the season's new growth. Old leaves are still blanketing the rain gardens and native plant borders, though they are no longer needed to protect tender shoots from cold winds and serve only to deaden the subtle colors of the newly bloomed columbines and native iris. The birdbaths and feeders need to be scrubbed and filled again. The new beds I so blithely drew on grid paper last week have to be dug, turned and amended with compost before I can even think about buying the new peonies, lavender, coneflowers, salvia and sedum that will provide summer blooms against the backdrop of the existing drifts of blue iris.
But, I dread the digging. The ground here is insanely rocky. There is no simple way to turn the earth; a shovel is a poor weapon against such stubborn, stony land. This job will require pry bars, pickaxes, rakes and maybe a backhoe to finish. Oh, and I forgot the hatchet and bow saw to cut the tree roots.
Maybe I'll just sleep on Saturday.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

Any other avian action shots snapped in the garden this week would be pornographic. The birdies are very, very randy right now.

The changing of the guard

Last week, we lost a good neighbor. He was a retired Lutheran minister, a ham radio operator, a former Air Force Reserve chaplain, a french horn player, a radio operator on a B-26 Marauder. He flew 40 missions over France and Germany as a young man in the Army Air Corps. He was 60 years old when we moved in next door nearly 25 years ago, and became a good, although not close friend. I grew to love him like an uncle, and I am sad that he has passed.

Now, my husband is almost 60 and I am not far behind. It seems to have fallen to us to assume the questionable privilege of being the oldest couple on the block. I'm not absolutely certain of it, because I have never seen the people that live in the house on the farthest southwest corner, but I think it's a safe bet. This is indeed uncharted territory for me. I really wish my wise old neighbor were here to give me guidance. I wish I could have had one more chat with him about nothing in particular, and everything in the world. I wish I could have said, "Goodbye."