Author and Inspired Writer

In a previous post I mentioned I would relate some of my adventures with storms and squirrels as pertains to my container garden. Storms first.

We’ve been having an inordinate amount of rainfall in my neck of the woods this Spring, and by rainfall I mean great, heaping, torrential downpours! The day I planted my plants, there was a storm comin’. We could see the sky turning dark, something moving in fast from the east. But I thought I’d have plenty of time to finish the job. The wind picked up, and The Mister looked concerned.

“Better pick up the pace a bit there, Missus.”

I brushed off his concern.

“Not to worry, not to worry.”

And sure enough, I got everything nicely planted, gathered up my tools, and went into the house, feeling pretty smug and muttering something about fretful old farts. About two and a half seconds later, the skies cracked open and rain came down in rivers!

The following day, The Mister got me the rest of the plants to finish the garden, went off to fill up the car with gas from the shed, and nasty black clouds started moving in again.

“You think we might get caught in this?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Might,” The Mister replied without looking up.

“How much time do you think we have?”

“Hard to say.”

I started working faster.

“Well, do you think there’s any danger, you know, from lightning bolts or something?”

He capped the gas can and put it back in the shed.

“Only for whoever’s still outside when it hits.” And he headed back to the house.

My fingers were a blur! But I got everything safely ensconced, dropped my tools and dashed up the back steps into the house. And yikes! lightening, thunder and deluge of rain within mere minutes. The Mister looked over at me.

“Nice timing there, Missus. Didn’t know you could move that fast.”

“Well, I was highly motivated.”

And then there’s the squirrels.

The morning after I had prepared the boxes with soil and compost, I found them besmirched with a number of squirrel-size divots. Great! We have a real problem with squirrels in our area. We also have a real problem with feral cats. Now, you’d think the latter would take care of the former, but no. Things are not nearly so convenient as that in the Wild Kingdom. Anyhoo, I did some research on how to keep the squirrels at bay. The first two suggestions were a rubber owl on the shed roof, and/or rubber snakes in the boxes themselves. I took a moment to imagine how that would look, then uttered a fervent prayer that other suggestions would be forthcoming.

They were. Someone said they’d had good luck with placing river rocks around the plants. Apparently, the little rodents don’t like digging under them. And someone else said the ONLY thing they had tried that worked was sprinkling the boxes liberally with hot spices – chili powder and cayenne.

I did both the rocks and the spices and woo-hoo, no squirrels! My dear sister Chris, who has a lovely garden every year, confirmed the use of hot spices as a successful deterrent for these cute but pesky critters.

So my boxes are doing very well, and I’m feeling pretty proud of myself. Next time, I’ll tell ya about goofy sun faces and li’l Amish children and what they’re doing in my garden. You don’t want to miss that, now do you?

Ahoy gentle readers! If you’re surprised to be hearing from me again so soon, I’m just as surprised to be here. I had planned on another post about further adventures in container gardening that I mentioned last week, but I suspected I wouldn’t be able to get to it for a week or so since The Mister and I would be leaving for our 25th wedding anniversary trip to Stratford tomorrow, where we took our honeymoon. Unfortunately, The Mister came down with some kind of intestinal bug on Saturday (after years of not so much as a sniffle, no less!) and we had to call the trip off. So instead of champagne tomorrow, we’ll be toasting out 25 years together with flat ginger ale and Saltines. We had to laugh. Whatever else, this will be an anniversary to remember!

Ahoy, gentle readers! Been a while since I posted, so I thought I’d bring you up to date.

The writing continues apace. I’ve written a buncha new poems and the feeling is growing ever stronger that I’m approaching the beginning of the end. But strangely, I’m not letting up on the research – rereading books to make sure I’ve gleaned every bit of the Magdalene’s life and significance I might want to write about. Is it really coming to an end? Gosh! What a thought.

Aaaaand, I’ve put in a container garden! I know, right?! Haven’t done anything horticultural for decades, and now this! You can blame some magazines my choir director gave me featuring backyard gardens that were, well, enchanted kingdoms! Even their gardening sheds looked sublime! I could never do anything on that scale, but I found myself thinking, “I’ve got a shed I could decorate. I’ve got a spade and trowel somewhere around here…maybe a few containers by the shed, filled with some shade lovers…?” The Mister muttered something about hiding the magazines next time. Oh bosh!

Anyhoo, I dusted off some old containers, kinda broken-down they were, but I figured I could hide the cracks and chips when the flowers grew in. The Mister graciously purchased some topsoil for my project which I mixed with some compost from our backyard composter.

Next, what to plant?

Our parish nurse, who just happens to be an avid gardener and a dear friend, suggested coleus, begonias and impatiens for colour, and maybe a fern or two for background. Right! Off to Canadian Tire to purchase said beauties – coleus (both red and variegated), begonias (mixed colours), and some beautiful ferns named lamiastrum (dark green sprinkled with silver pixie dust…at least that’s what they told me at the store.) But alas, no impatiens. They said they should be getting them in some time soon, but I was afraid this sudden urge to green up my thumbs (and blacken my nails) might vanish if I waited too long, so I decided to make do with what I had, and as luck would have it, I didn’t need the impatiens. The begonias sufficed nicely.

I planted the garden with surprising speed and dexterity, but realized I needed two more lamiastrums (lamiastra?) for the sake of symmetry. The Mister to the rescue again. I was working on preparing the last of boxes when he returned, jumped out of the car and announced, “I’ve got impatience!”

“I keep telling ya to slow down and smell the roses, there Pa.”

He handed me a bag. “No, impatience!”

And there of course, was a lovely little four pack of budding plants, just enough to fill the boxes.

“No, Pa! Impatiens! Impatiens!”

“Well then, plant the darn things! What are you waiting for?”

To avoid getting into a “Who’s on first?” routine, I did as I was bidden.

In my next post, I’ll tell ya about my adventures with storms and squirrels.

Til then!

I’ve started writing what will be the last poem of The Magdalene Poems collection. Not that this is in fact the last poem, but it is the poem that will appear at the end of the book. Why it came to me now, when there are still a goodly number of other poems to write, I can’t say. But it’s here and I’m working on it.

And it’s a bit of a bear. It’s been a couple of weeks of working on it, and I’ve only just started to organize my thoughts. And I don’t particularly like the thoughts I’m organizing. They’re scattered and decidedly unpoetical. I wonder if I have the vocabulary to write it at all. And I don’t know why this is so difficult. All I do know is this will take time, more than any other poem I’ve ever written, and commitment. I have to “show up” to write more consistently, especially for this bug-a-boo. So many other things can prevent me from getting to my writing desk, but truth be told, I let them. And here’s another confession – I’m a tad afraid to write this one. It’s so large, and so important, and what if I’m just not up to it? What happens to The Magdalene Poems then?

Feels strange to be writing the last poem. It means someday I’ll be done, the book will be complete, I will have said all I have to say about her. It’s been my project for years. How will it feel to be finished for good?

I know, I know – best not to look too far ahead and get all negative and stuff. So OK. One day at a time. One poem at a time. And one opportunity to take a leap of faith…at a time.