Pansies

(Photo: almanac.com)

This year the weather is predicted to be extreme. Swinging wildly from one thing to another.  There is still so much brown in my garden it looks more like the garden of rust.  I am sadly in need of some spring color.

As a little girl, I remember my maternal grandmother planting pansies each spring.  She planted them in the same place, and always the same kind, although I don't think she had much to choose from then.  I remember asking her why pansies, why that kind...why, why why?  I'm sure I drove her absolutely crazy.  I remember her as a forceful woman, who lined up her cutting garden flowers in regimental rows.

"Why?"

"They make me happy."

There you have it.  I don't think she stopped there.  I think she probably went on about cold, long winters, too much snow.  Pansies were always the first thing she could plant out and not worry overmuch about them freezing.

Recently, my nephews and my brother came to visit, more like to check up on my condition, physical, mental, and emotional (I'm afraid these days...).  One of my nephews noticed a string of tiny silver bells strung over a doorway to my dining room.  He asked me why?  I touched them gently, and they made a happy little jingling sound like music.

"Why?"

"They make me happy."

You could see the sound made him happy, too.

So, all you gardeners out there faced with wild weather, I encourage you to plant something that simply makes you happy.

Silly Things Which Bring Joy

Every time I look at this picture, it makes me happy.  The bright blue of the sky, the bright white of the PVC, and those few drops of moisture dripping from the outlet...

Before Handsome Son left for college this summer, he helped me to install some guttering over the entrance to my house I use most often.  It may seem like a little thing, but it exactly the sort of job that never gets done.  What contractor would come out and hang 10' of gutter?

Without it, each fall and spring when the heavy rains leading into ice and snow and eventual winter come to central Wisconsin the rain comes off the house in sheets, drenching me as I jiggle my key in the lock, forming a huge ice dam and skating rink on my deck.  I have to keep my wits about me taking Faithful Companion out for a walk or any sudden yank on the lease could spell a perilous fall.

This year, it's not going to happen.

You'll notice we did not add a downspout.  I may regret that, but I left the option open to create a one of a kind rain chain.  Maybe I'll even look for an interesting, large, concave rock to form some sort of Zen-like splash.

The artistic options simply abound.

Considering how this utilitarian item made of PVC (ick!) will bring me no little amount of Joy is astounding.

What small thing could bring you Joy?

A New Year, A Clean Slate?

Nothing so simply symbolizes joy to me than a peony in full, rich bloom with its overblown, abundant scent. Its short bloom time reminds me to enjoy the simple things when we can.


The end of 2011 lends itself to thinking about a new year and beginning again. I think a lot of you will agree, 2011 was a rough year for everyone, the country, the economy, and ultimately the world. My thought is, though that the end of 2010, found me hoping for the best in 2011. I'm not a big one for New Year resolutions simply because they entail lists, and lists for me, are synonymous with work.

As I sit here typing I can see the ubiquitous symbol of infrastructure through my dining room window, the "telephone" pole. In this case, it not only carries the telephone landline, but electricity and cable as well. Shortly after WWI, telephony and electrification came to my village. At the time a dam on the millpond and its associated spillways provided enough electricity for the entire village and ground grain for local farmers, too. Newer technologies were layered on older technologies, similar to how cable layered their lines on the telephone poles.

Also while typing, a fat squirrel carried some sort of treasure up the pole. The pole has a shock of corn laying at its base, which happens to be the trash pick-up area for the cast-offs of my next door neighbor's fall decorating endeavors. The village has a maintenance guy or two, who run around and chip up appropriately bundled yard waste and compost them in the village's composting area. Unfortunately, this is not a year round activity, the corn shock will remain until spring.

The squirrel, however, brought me to the thought of the natural world and its collision with the man-made world and the thoughts of how we layer the new on the old. The squirrel didn't much care if he was scurrying up a telephone pole, electric pole, or my monumental pine. Its desire is simply up and away with its choice morsel. With the connecting wires running along side branches of my pine, it doesn't much care how it gets where it is going as long as it does.

I figure we can all take a lesson from the squirrel and just set some goals, never-minding how we get there, just that we do.

I was reading a blog I follow, the writer of which is not a big list make neither. For her, she picks three words on which she will focus her energy. I think this is much more useful than a list.

The new year will encompass the graduation of my son, a birth of a nephew, and unknown to most at this point-- a wedding (no, not me!); happy events all! These are all events we will celebrate and to which adjustments are needed.


This espaliered fruit tree in the Chicago Botanical Garden is trained to grow in available space. It might not provide an enormous amount of fruit, but it will fruit.

The new year will also find me again up for election to the village board, revamping my business model, now that my son will be in school at UW-Green Bay this fall, and honing some of my business skills. I will probably attempt certification for things I do, but never took the time to connect the supporting education and certifications.


I was a bit amazed at the sheer volume of potatoes, crooked necked squash, salad greens, carrots, radishes, and handful of cukes this 12' by 6' space provided. Better serial planting and choice of vegetables would have yielded even more in this stream-lined space.


I have also been driven crazy with new technology. Technological changes are speeding up, and there are advantages waiting for those of us who can adapt and incorporate these into our lives.

DebiO, my friend to the north, often ends her blog with "Be a joy giver." Her optimistic perspective in a year where teachers in Wisconsin have been hard-put to find joy in their lives let alone focus on it, has been uplifting.

So following the example of the fellow blogger, I have chosen three words to sum up my goals and challenges the new year will bring. These are accommodation, clarification, and joy.

What are your three words?

Have a fruitful, abundant, and joy-filled New Year!

Count Your Bees and Your Blessings

Daylily 'Mary Todd' given to me by my dear friend Sheila.


Today is the national bee count survey day. So all of you into bees, get out and get counting and go to this link to find out more about The Great Sunflower Project. They offer great real world tips to help our bees. They also have the Bee-o-meter, a fun tool to see how many bees were counting in a 15-minute period in your zip code during the 2010 bee count.

While we are busy thinking about bees and that they help produce 1/3 of the food grown here in the United States, we should also think about the blessings in our lives. Here in central Wisconsin, there is a lot we can be very down about. For example: the unreasonable, unreal weather, the new governor and his capricious actions, the economy and the rhetoric in Washington preventing honest compromise and inability to see the global picture of what happens worldwide if we don't just drop the crap and increase the debt ceiling, all in addition to the individual things that just don't seem to go the way we want.

So here's my list of my blessings:

My parents are still living, as well as all my siblings and their spouses (and exes) and children. And, although my parents can drive me nuts, I would miss the council of my father accumulated in his 78 years and the foibles of my mother.

I have a nephew who is almost 8 suffering from Duchennes Muscular Dystrophy. At 8, he is smart, good-looking, and engaging, and doomed. This is a terrible disease and its long-shadow is already casting its pall on my sister's life. Thirty percent of DMD are caused by spontaneous mutations. We believe this to be the case for Sam. There hasn't been any other incidence among any of our relation that we can find. Needless to say, after learning of Sam's diagnosis, I gave both (my son, and my brother) the big strong men in my matrilinear line (and only ones still living) big hugs just for being. Boys are precious. Hug yours.

Second blessing: My Ex and father of my son. He's a great guy, just not a great guy for me. Although he lives in Chicago, and my son and I live in the wilds of Wisconsin, he has been there for us and provided for his son. And he's been a good friend as well.

Third: Boxers are great dogs. Faithful Companion is incredibly bright. My son and I figure she has a 50-60 word vocabulary and a sense of humor. This morning, I cleaned out the fridge and found a halfway to dried-out chunk of rice krispy treat wrapped in cellophane which I promptly deposited in her bowl (sans cellophane). After mowing down the treat she comes out to the dining room and rolls onto her back, curling her feet in and letting her ample floppy lips fall over her eyes and holds the pose until you notice, in a pose my son and I refer to as "Please Read the Directions Carefully Before Assembling Your Boxer". It never fails to get me to laugh. Faithful Companion knows this. She then prances over and actually gives me a big hug, knowing her job is done.

BTW, never teach your boxer to do the Conga.

So I am leaving you with a final blessing today of some of the things blooming in my garden. And especially today, let's pay it forward as bees do and as my friend to the north always says in her blogposts, "Be a joy-giver."



An unknown bulb given to me by the daughter of a friend who died last November. The daughter found them while cleaning out the basement of my friend's house.



An unnamed daylily cultivar




Sidalecea, grown from seed



Lilium 'Elodie', a great bloomer with nice black stems.