Holy Mackerel

Still no reply from Fiskars, guys. I'm getting really angry now. Pulling out the big guns, as they say. Methinks they aren't taking me seriously, which is just ridiculous. So, I'm in the midst of putting together another email to Nikki at Fiskars Headquarters, and this time, I'm not mincing words. In the meantime: * Waiting for my garden boy, and almost having a heart attack when I see a Harry's Hedges truck across the stress. * Still waiting for my garden boy, and getting kind of tired of it all really, which actually means I'm pretty much just a pathetic excuse for a person who has no life and would rather live in her wild and wily imagination than actually face reality, whatever that is. I also spent Saturday with Adonis and Wood Nymph, who, along with Dee, went to my parents' gravesite and planted flowers to make things look all pretty and presentable, because if we're about anything, we're all about image. I didn't take any pictur...

Planting flowers at our dad's (and now our mother's as well) gravesite. Dee, my brother Adonis, and myself. Our annual ritual. Bitter cold that Sunday. There was hail that day, and rain. The wind whipped our bare hands as my brother and son dug and watered and planted, and I stood supervising and taking the odd photograph. Those are my specialties. That, and drinking consecutive mojitos and eating an entire supersized bag of Cheetos in one hour. A sad time, for sure. Lots of memories. This year, however, we did some laughing as we reminisced. Remembering the silly things our parents would say or do. It is our first year planting flowers for our mother as well. She passed away in March. And although our parents separated way back in 1972, my father paid for a spot for my mother next to him, to make sure she had somewhere to go and that she'd be taken care of. My brothers and I are now orphans. And, when I really think about it, I am very sad, and don't really believe ...

When your ass flaps against the backs of your legs, you know it's time to hit the gym. And, as luck would have it, I looked up "ass flap" in the dictionary, and guess who I saw? That's right. Me. With my ass, hitting the backs of my legs like there's no tomorrow. There was no better time than Saturday to witness this amazing event, as I spent the better part of the day gardening. That's right. I gardened my entire front area, including three largish pots, the entire front of the steps, and I also put down a bag full of black mulch, because I saw it at someone's house last week and liked it enough to remember it. I thought it looked awesome, and would therefore make my house and garden look awesome as well. That's how it works, isn't it? As I tilled the soil and got my hands extremely dirty (well, mostly my right hand, because I tend to use one hand more than the other, and I also tend to unconsciously keep one hand clean when doing dirty tasks. No...

Although my backyard may be the perfect example of a complete and utter mess, there is still beauty to be found. Honeysuckle growing by the front door. I have yet to see hummingbirds here, but I never say never. Bridal veil spirea. Perfection in nature. Bleeding hearts I planted last year and forgot about. And this year, they gift me with this. I am in awe. Our bridal veil spirea plants in the front yard. We are the envy of the neighbourhood for only a very short time, when these plants blossom. And then, we are once again relegated to the garbage heap of neighbours: those who don't follow the rules, do their own thing, and let the grass grow just a little longer than everyone else. I wouldn't have it any other way, except if we hired a handsome, half naked Spanish lawnboy to come cut the grass while I sit in my deck chair and swig down a Mike's Hard Lemonade as I supervise.

Beauty. No words can express... ... the absolute beauty of a flower. My house was inundated with beauty this Mother's Day. As my heart was filled with love.