My Nemesis

The only thing I hate more than driving two hours to eat lunch at a certain marina only to find that they are closed on Thursdays? Dandelions!!!

Having just mowed the yard this past Friday and then again yesterday this pesky, virulent, bain of my existence has already resurfaced again. Ideally, I would love to use an all-natural approach in my lawn care. But I believe it's time to bring out the big guns. I'm thinking something so deadly it will strike fear even into the hearts of weeds in neighboring yards.

Hear this, Dandelions. Your days are numbered.

Postscript...Happy 100th Birthday, Pa Frazier. We miss you.

Scenes from My Lawn Mower

I grabbed my camera and snapped some pics on my last few rounds. This old ash tree came in handy as a place we could hang our little man's tire swing.

Today was mowing day. This is a chore I both love and hate.

My lawn crew

I always take great satisfaction in seeing my scruffy-looking yard become neat and trimmed. Early in the season I also enjoy the peace, tranquility, and reflection that comes from hours of riding over the yard whenever I mow. When mowing almost 5 acres a lot of reflection can take place. During these beautiful spring months I look forward to this little bit of solitude each and every week.

All we need is a picnic table. Can you spot John-Heath's dump truck?

Of course, if I were to be writing about mowing, say, in August I would put an entirely different spin on this chore. Then, in 90 degree heat (or worse) and a whole lot of humidity, 4 hours on a hot engine is not so relaxing.

They look nice but I wouldn't sit in them. I should have taken this one after the weedeating.

Today was a good day. I mowed. John took care of the weed-eating. Ren and John-Heath picked up rocks from the yard. John-Heath thought it was a pretty cool thing to do. Ren...not so much. She was eager to remind me repeatedly that her friends were on their way to various beaches or cruise ships and she was being forced into manual labor. One day, she'll thank me. Or maybe not.

My least favorite part of the yard to mow - between this row of trees and the fence.

And now it is time to retire for the evening, just as soon as I wipe down my right arm and hand with some strong muscle ointment and take a couple Ibuprofin. Goodnight, friends. This gal is tired.

Looking up at one of the hackberry trees. Don't you just love the color of new leaves?

Buttercups

My newly-planted buttercups. Ahhh!

Since childhood I have been in love with buttercups. It has been told in my family that I once picked every single buttercup in and around my grandparents' yard to give to my grandmother, Momma Beatrice, as a gift. I do remember that it seemed the hillside on their property was full of them. I just thought they were beautiful. I cannot say whether or not I got into trouble for this particular endowment effort.

The buttercups of which I am particularly fond, the solid yellow, trumpet-shaped beauties that pop out of the ground to let us know that spring is on its way, are actually a variation of the daffodil. Scientifically, I have learned that true buttercups are in the genus Ranunculus and bear little resemblance (other than in color) to my most beloved perrenial. I guess it must just be a southern, or at least a northern-middle Tennessee, thing that we call ours "buttercups", as well.

You would think that somewhere on the 150 acres around me I might be able to spot some. No such luck. So, on my last trip to Wally-world I bought two pots. Now, I can look out from my back porch and see them in the little wooded area in our backyard. This appeases me some, but what I really want are the old-fashioned ones growing wild along the road or in a field where surely a house must have once stood. There. I have talked myself into it. I will now pressure John into driving down back country roads with a shovel and bucket so that he can get me some of these little handfuls of happiness. Wouldn't it be swell if he could even get some from my Pa Vernon's old homeplace?

If Meg Ryan's character in You've Got Mail was correct in her thought that daisies are the friendliest flower, then buttercups are surely the sunniest.

Winds-day, April 7

In Winnie-the-Pooh lingo today would definitely be considered a blustery day. We have had the windows thrown up and the doors thrown open and nature has provided instant aeration of the house. We are, so far, loving this spring break.

If my hair were longer you would be able to see just how blustery it was.
John-Heath had soccer practice today. His practices are 5-6 on Wednesdays and 5-6 on Fridays (Yuck). John took him today and I showed up about 15 minutes before the end. He was a goalie. To his great delight all the grass around his goal was gone. This dirt patch provided on-the-spot entertainment for him for the periods of time when a ball was not in play anywhere around him - and, come to think of it, whenever a ball was in play around him.

Watched The Blind Side tonight with John and John-Heath. There was a scene with a train in the background very early in the movie and John-Heath kept wanting us to rewind to that spot. We told him there would be more trains to come and to just keep watching. So, every 4 or 5 minutes he would ask when the next one was coming.

Ren spent Tuesday night at my parents and is spending tonight with Megan at Jon and Jessie's house. They are in one of the Carolinas visiting Jessie's sister and new baby and Megan is house-sitting. I am a little nervous, afraid the weather will turn bad. It was actually 4 years ago today a tornado hit part of our county and killed several people. I believe that was on a Friday. We were still in school, which was kept in session until about 5 o'clock that evening to wait out the storms.

So, just in case, I think I'll sleep with an eye and an ear open.

Now the very blustery night turned into a very rainy night. And Pooh kept his lonely vigil, hour after hour, after hour - until at last, Pooh fell fast asleep - and began to dream.

Welcome March

Things I love about March...

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The C O L O R most associated with it (it's always been my favorite)

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Ireland

I have heard that, thanks to St. Patrick, they have no snakes. If this is true I think I would like to live in Ireland.

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Spring Break is just around the corner.

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We are closer to the end of another year of school.

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An Old Irish Blessing
May love and laughter light your days, and warm your heart and home. May good and faithful friends be yours, wherever you may roam. May peace and plenty bless your world with joy that long endures. May all life's passing seasons bring the best to you and yours!