Is it really Sunday night again already? Well crap; how did that happen? I very much enjoyed my long weekend last week; do I really have to wait until next week for another? I do? Damn. Life, she's a cruel and unfair beast sometimes, no?
The good news is that after this weekend, I will no longer be sweating away my Saturdays and Sundays on my yard beautification project. At least, not anymore this year, anyway. My backyard still lacks any welcoming character whatsoever, and my front yard could still use some shade-loving plants in the thus-far neglected areas, but people, I am TIRED of digging and clearing and planting and such, so I have decided that what I've done in the past month and a half is ENOUGH for now.
So then. What have I done? Well, since you asked...
This is what the area in front of my house looked like previously... three sad, random, anemic bushes with nothing but weeds and sparse, half-dead grass in between.
And here is that same area, bushes gone, grass cleared, area edged and newly planted.
Of course, the idea is that those tiny lumps below my window will grow into full-sized shrubs, and the flowers and other foliage in front of them will also expand to nestle up alongside them. These things take time, but here's hoping that time actually improves this landscape rather than diminishes it. The last time I planted a fraction of a paycheck's worth of perennials, only half of them came back the following year. Do you have any advice to help me ensure that these plants don't also vanish underground over the winter or die a similarly untimely death? No, seriously. There are probably tricks and techniques to this sort of thing, right? And yet, the extent of my plant-care knowledge is summed up in that classic Sesame Street clip: Duh, man, plants need water. Beyond that, it's a mystery to me. Is there something else I should be doing, other than watering? Is there a pagan ritual or plant-dance I should know about? I'm willing to try almost anything, so please do fill me in.
While I was already up to my elbows in dirt, I figured I'd do some maintenance on the perennials along the side of my house as well. I dug up the grass and weeds in this area to create this bed a few years ago, but obviously I had no idea what I was doing, because as I said, half of what I planted did not come back, and the other half was not actually organized particularly well. Either the purple salvia I planted has done exceedingly, unexpectedly, mutantly well, or, more likely, I didn't consult the "Estimated height" line on the information card when I bought it, because it had grown far higher than the day lilies I planted behind it, and the whole area was a bit ridiculous-looking, actually. So I spent my vacation day last week moving the day lilies to the front and spent yesterday afternoon planting pink coneflowers in their place. Cross your fingers that those coneflowers actually bloom (and also come back next year), will you? Or, again, fill me in on some trick or ritual, because I'd really rather not revisit this same perennial bed again next year.
While I'm pretending this is an HGTV blog, let's talk about my tomato plants, shall we? I may not have the greenest of thumbs, but I maintain high hopes for these. Here they are huddled up alongside my grill and hose reel, because I lack a proper patio to place them on (and one digging-up-my-yard project was quite enough for one year)...
Yesterday, when I went out to water them, I wondered just when I might start to see something that looks like a tomato on any of the stems, so I crouched down to take a closer look, and lo! Tiny tomatoes! It's like magic! They are a long way off from being edible, of course, but I consider those little green balls tiny hopes and promises anyway.
And let's see. What else did I do with my weekend? Well, Friday night I attended another lovely soiree at my good friend Carrie's place, where both the food and the company were fantastic and yet I neglected to take any pictures to serve as memories or proof.
Last night I decided I needed a evening off, so I made myself a frozen pizza and opened a bottle of wine and watched He's Just Not That into You on DVD. And OK, can I make a confession? I fully realize it was a purportedly terrible movie based on a terrible book. I am well aware that it received almost universally dismal reviews. But you know what? I didn't hate it. In fact, up until the last 15 minutes, I maybe even liked it. I can't say I related to any of the characters specifically (Lord help me, I hope I didn't relate to any of the characters specifically!), but I am wearied enough of dating that I suppose I related to the topics generally, and it was actually refreshing to see a movie that attempted to crush the myths and idealism we single girls have been fed for so long, rather than perpetuating them. That is, until the final 15 minutes, when (sorry; spoiler alert) two of the characters actually get exactly what they want, what they've been told the entire movie they cannot expect, which basically wrapped their stories up into a neat little Hollywood bow just like every other romantic comedy that came before. What's worse is I actually cried at one point near the end, and kept it up almost all the way through to when the credits rolled. Part of me is strangely grateful for the reaction, because I feel so jaded these days that I worry perhaps I'm now made of stone, but even so, I'd like to blame the tears on, I don't know, hormones? Wine? Heat exhaustion? Please do take your pick.
And that's about all that's on my mind lately. I've got a busy week ahead, busy with both fun things (the first trip of the season to the Pizza Farm, as well as a movie screening a friend is hosting in an area parking lot) and also routine, have-to-be-done things (my first haircut since February and another appointment to sit in the Saturn service center lounge for a couple of hours while they finally repair my A/C problem). So while usually I write a Sunday or Monday night post with earnest but ultimately false intentions that I will write another one or two before the week is out, this time I am fairly certain I won't log in again before the holiday weekend, so I wish you a fun and happy one, whatever you have planned.