In addition to, you know – the usual – I’ve been working here and there in the garden.  Here are a few snippets from green side …

Annoying sorts.  I have long maintained that garden centers are a good place to be, for gardeners are a happy lot.  Except perhaps when you’re in a hurry.  The other day, for instance, I ran in to purchase some rose food and potting soil.  That’s all I needed.  Two things.  Unbeknownst to me, however, it would take me 45 minutes to check-out.  Forty.  Five.  First off, the woman in front of me insisted on buying ten stones – of which they could not find the proper five-digit number.  Four people and a half an hour later, they were victorious.  For my turn, I was informed the potting soil was outside; I needed only to pay, pull in back, and put said soil in the trunk.  Well I paid, got in my car, drove over to where the potting soil was suppose to be, and it was nowhere to be found.  I reparked.  Got out of the car, grabbed a cart, wheeled it to the back of the garden center, only to find an empty shelf where my potting soil should have been.  So I threw the closest in price onto the cart, wheeled it back to the cashier, where I was promptly informed that I would need to go inside to customer service for any sort of cash back.  At that point, what was a dollar?  To end it all, on the way out some old lady whacked the side of my cart, “We’ll just following this one out and take her cart when she’s done.”  Suddenly, I knew what Alice must have felt like when the flowers turned on her …

Dill-thief.  Each year we purchase a new herb for our herb garden.  This year we opted for dill.  I mean, how much fun would that be?  Fresh dill!  We finally got it planted.  It seemed happy in it’s new home, surrounded by rosmary, sage, and thyme.  All was good.  Until Tuesday night.  Tuesday night some rodant got a hankering for dill.  It ate our whole plant – right down to nubs.  Wretched varmet!   

Evil feline.   Speaking of wretched varmets, I’m currently watering flowers for my aunt and uncle while they are on vacation.  I’m also feeding their cat.  Their cat is evil – as in the fru-its of the de-vil.  I know this.  And I usually steer clear.  But she seemed so pitiful yesterday.  She looked so little in that big house all by her lonesome.  So when she came up to be and rubbed around my legs, I gave her pets.   She purred, rubbed around my fingers for more.  Then – out of nowhere – she grabbed my hand, bit it, and hissed.  Like any rational adult, I simply walked away, leaving her to her snit … then, when she was sitting in the screened porch, watching me water the flowers, I sprayed her a good one.  It’s probably not right the glee that filled my heart … but, as we all know, it is the little things …

Each year the girls of the fam are invited over to party all weekend; it’s our Mother’s Day Extravaganza.  It typically begins with dinner on Friday evening and ends with brunch on Sunday morning.   This year my two aunts, my cousin, and his family joined in the festivities.  Here are a few random thoughts from our time together …

Photo ops.  If there’s one thing a member of our family learns at a young age, it’s how to get accustomed to any number of cameras in your face at any given time.  Flashes going off every which way is just par for the course.  The Paparazzi’s got nothin’ on us.  Action shots, portraits, nut-ball poses, we’ve got ‘em all.  Sometimes that’s all we’ve got.  So, what’d you do over the weekend?  We partook in miscellaneous photo ops – and you?  The upside: We can revisit our family … we can relive the laughter … anytime we wish.  It’s enough to make the momentary blindness worth it. 

Sweet lovin’s.  My cousin’s little girl is one and a half.  And cuter than ever.  Seriously.  She’s so cute you can’t even stand it.  She’s also a little lady on the go.  Still, she managed to take time out of her busy roadmap-to-discovery to give me some sweet lovin’s.  When she walked up to me and held out her hands to be picked up; and then, once up, put her head on my chest, I melted.  Just like butta.  Suddenly I understood how parents might be tempted to spoil their children absolutely rotten.  Because if she could talk in complete sentences – and happened to ask for a car at that precise moment – I would have said, “here, take mine.”   Pretty sure. 

Heart of thankfulness.  You know, life has a funny way of not-at-all turning out as you had planned.  Yet is still manages to shine.  Much like the song suggests, God likes to bless the broken road.   As I sat there yesterday morning, looking at the faces before me, I realized how each mother at that table has had her share of sorrow and disappointment.  But they’ve kept going; they’ve also kept each other.  And I realized my heart was full to overflowing with thankfulness.  I was thankful to have a mom – and be surrounded by moms – who were stronger than they’ll ever realize.  They taught me that it’s okay to cry – as long as the tears turn to laughter evetually.  They taught me how to create and cherish memories.  They taught me that they’ve got my back – and that I need to carry on the tradition.  They taught me that yes, life may not be perfect – but it can be beautiful all the same.

There’s a slight possibility the neighbors across the way moved in for the sole purpose of testing my patience.  Thankfully, their respective annoyances are solo; they do not typically join in chorus.  Except for last night.  Last night, when I was frantically trying to finish editing; last night, when I desperately needed peace and quiet, they all joined in… 

Neighbor #2:  I refer to him as neighbor #2 since he abides in the in the middle house.  I’m not really sure what the story is, but someone in that household rides a motorcycle, in circles, in the backyard.  Round-and-around-and-around for hours at a time.  There really isn’t a strong enough word for just how annoying this is; the only reason I have not personally gone over there and hurt the individual is because I keep telling myself he must be autistic or something.  Autistic and the regular looping motion is the ONLY thing that can calm his nerves.   I mean really.  What other explanation could there possibly be?  It certainly couldn’t be to get on my last and final nerve.  Right?!  So off he went last night – Va-a-ROO-oom; va-a-ROO-oom; va-a-ROO-oom …

Neighbor #1:  The neighbor to the left of #2 – herein referred to as Neighbor #1 – has a hound dog.  Now, Neighbor #1 has apparently left for an excursion of one sort or another, which means his poor pups is even more distraught than usual.  And, as hound dogs do, he likes to share his misery.  Much like he did last night.  After approximately five rounds of the motorcycle, he started in – A-ru.  A-ru.  A-ru-ru-u-u; A-ru.  A-ru.  A-ru-u-u-u; A-ru.  A-ru.  A-ru-u-u-u …

Neighbor #3:  Neighbor #3 is the only one I have ever actually met.  Our conversation didn’t last long; apparently he couldn’t hear a thing I said unless I yelled it.  And I’ll tell you why:  he likes to share his music with anyone within a five mile radius.  Or, maybe he’s just trying to drown out Neighbors 1 & 2.  There’s no way of knowing.  What I do know, however, is that he pumped up the volume not long after the hound started belting his tune – Bada-dada-da-da; Bada-dada-da-da; Bada-dada-da-da…

Now if I thought one was bad, all three – together – is positively dreadful.    Bada-dada-da-da – A-ru.  A-ru. -  Bada-dada-da-da – va-a-ROO – Bada-dada-da-da -va-ru-u-u … After about an hour I began to mull my options – all of which probably would have landed me in jail.  And let’s be serious – I don’t have the time for that!  So I did the only thing left to do; I flung my editing to the ground, curled up in a ball, and put a pillow over my head. 

We can only hope all’s quiet on the home-front tonight. 

Well, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind since I last popped in; but there were celebrations to be had – so it wasn’t all bad …

May day.  I’m of the belief that one should never outgrow May day.  As a matter of fact, in a perfect world, I think our pots, planters, and gardens would be full of flowers from friends.  But, alas, this concept does not seem to be catching on.  All the same, I usually load up my car with annuals and  perennials – cut flowers for my grama and her friends – and hit the road.  Due to my writing project and impending company, I had to scale back this year.  And it went downhill from there.  Seriously.  I missed streets and had to turn around multiple times; notes were falling off the flowers; flowers were tipping, spilling potting soil all over my car.  I was grouchy.  On May day.  Suddenly, I began to question why it was I do what I do.  Who’s even going to miss it?  Just when I was about to call it a tradition, I received a call from one of my grama’s friends.  At ninety-one years of age, she had never received a May basket – the happiness echoed in her voice.  There it was; my reason… and the reason I will continue on next year… 

Birthdays.  My aunt was visiting this past weekend.  Her birthday was yesterday and we pretty much partied all weekend.  We went to a movie and ate out; we chatted and laughed until we cried.  We had a lot of fun.  Now I’ve known a lot of people who continually celebrate “21″ – people who view birthdays as “just another day.”  But last night, as we toasted another year, I was overcome with gratitude for a mum who made birthdays special.  Each and every one was special – special meals and desserts; candles, confetti, streamers; presents selected with care and wrapped in glittery paper.  But the greatest gift of all?  Happiness.  And what better way to begin a new year?