Last week I was a little manic and actually got something done. It wasn't my goal when I woke up that morning. It just kind of crept up on me. I started out needing to use the kitchen scales to weigh some packages that I wanted to mail. I started looking in all the usual places--no luck. Then I started scrambling about in the back of the kitchen cabinets.
I still didn't find the scales, but I did feel frustrated by all of the STUFF that was STUFFED into the back corners of the cupboards. SO I began to pull it out and piling it on the counters--there's still several stacks of mixing bowls clustered together where I first put them. I can't decide what to do with them--Lauren is gradually making inroads and spreading them throughout the kitchen cabinets.
As I was poking about, I pulled out the baking pans that I hadn't used in years (except to put underneath plant pots that were leaking water--or to hold groups of seedlings in a single place so that I could put water in the bottom of the cake pan or pie plate or whatever and the plants wouldn't dry out between waterings). With too many pans in my arms, I fumbled and dropped a glass pie plate. It EXPLODED all over: GLORIOUS explosion of sound and bits of light flew all around the room.
I gathered up the small kitchen mats (we have those foam filled floor coverings that help your feet and legs not to get tired when you are standing on them--they are WONDERFUL to step onto) and took them out to the driveway to hose off. I also took the large flat-woven rug that covers the space in front of the rabbit cages to the back yard where Sarah hosed it off and hung it on the line to dry for me. Then I swept the floor and mopped and got a lot of sticky spots cleaned off. Then things just kept going from there. I took pictures (surprise . . .) to keep track of that day.
Part of the Kitchen mess first thing in the morning. You can see the bunny cages, a new small rocking chair I got at a church rummage sale. Meg's fantasy character chair with the fore-shortened portrait of Meg's signature character on the seat.
Now the top of the small kitchen vac (the round grey thing) that I had to fix before I could use it to clean--there was stuff stuck in the hose . . . so of course it didn't work.
Here's the broken glass--kind of spectacular looking, no?
I also installed a child protection lock on the cupboard that Peter (the rabbit) is mysteriously drawn to. If you look really close, you can see where I drilled too far in and went right through to the front of the door. Hoping that Brent won't notice since it is so small and he is so tall.
The successful installation.
Peter's handiwork.
Another view of the normal state of things.
The stack of mixing bowls that I pulled out from under the counter.
My "nest" of work--natural plants of Florida (this semester's focus is on grasses, sedges and rushes.
This is a Cyperaceae grass. I'm mounting this semester's dried specimens in an old scrapbook I had from when the children were young. The pages are large enough for me to include roots and base leaves.
I also watered the plants on the porch and though it sadly strange that it was so beautifully cool and light outside--and I was spending the majority of my day poking around in the dusty recesses of the kitchen. Priorities.
Here's a shot of me in the walkway where the dining room, kitchen and family room all meet. Lauren decorated for Halloween--the first time ever that this has has see such frivolity at the end of October.
Now the floor is clean and the rugs and mats outside getting cleaned and dried.
Another view of the lovely space in front of the rabbit hutches.
At the end of the day--clean kitchen and Charlie comes home from work with Lauren. He snuggles with me, tired from all the activity and attention at La's workplace--a dog training facility nearby.
Closer view of Charlie and his grandma.
I love days when I can wear my "favorite" things--baggy shirts just a bit too little for Brent and my 7-year old shorts: below the knees and with zippered pockets for my phone and keys and stuff. I know that I look like a homeless tramp when I have them on--but I am so comfortable for some reason. It is as if I COULD go out in the garden and kneel in the dirt to pull weeds, plant trees and bushes and flowers I've grown myself from cuttings or seed. Somewhere I have a photo I asked Nathan to take of me after a long, full day in the gardens. I know how desperate I must have appeared to anyone who saw me--black dirt all down the front of me, bruised knees from kneeling on mulch chunks, rocks or pine cones. Hair pulled back and still damp from my habit of pouring water over my head when I get close to over-heating--which, of course, tends to turn the dirt down my front into a fine mud.
Those were frantic, frustrating times. A huge space to fill and no money for plants to fill the space. The Propagation class I took at Palm Beach State helped a bit. The ginger, the hibiscus called Turk's Cap, the butterfly bush in the side yard, and the proliferation of wandering-jew that covers the ground and kills the weeds that try to gain purchase in the soil below them. Even the myriad of avocado trees grown from seed in the back yard--good only for shade we've been told--since trees from seed take as many as 10 to 15 years before they decide to start giving fruit.
I am tired. In the morning at 7:30am I report to the outpatient facility to have my foot operated on--but then, that is a story for tomorrow.
