Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Life in our little cottage in the country

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Mulched

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Yesterday was all about mulching and some pruning. Lugging bags and constantly bending over to spread the mulch, along with off-the-chart allergies, left me feeling really tired afterward. I love mulching, I like seeing the garden look neater and more defined. But I definitely have a different level of stamina than I did 10 years ago. Unlike going from 45 to 55, for example, when I didn’t really notice any changes, I definitely notice the difference now. So does Don.

Plus, we’ve been in lockdown and we live in a place where it isn’t easy (or safe, at times) to walk and get exercise in the winter months. We’ve gained weight. We’re slowly getting in some sort of shape, through walking and mowing the lawn and chores on the property.

Allergies are the biggest pain, and this year they seem to be worse than ever.

Okay. Enough about that. Don’t mean to whine.

I didn’t get to comments yesterday but I read them all, I promise you.

Today, I’m going to take it easy – just the usual watering, etc., that has to happen at this time of year. And I’m going to paint a bit in the afternoon.

But my heavens, it’s another spectacularly beautiful day out there! Sunny, gorgeous, birdsong everywhere. I listened to so many birds yesterday as I working outside. The sounds, the melodies, the musicality – it all fills me with joy. Noble Robin dive-bombed me when I was watering the areas that we’ve seeded and when I had to get in the shed to retrieve the wheelbarrow. And if I walked to the upper edge of the big garden bed, he appeared out of nowhere and perched in the catalpa to see what I was up to. But one time, I heard a warning chirp and then he treated me to a beautiful song. I thanked him.

Wish me luck as I attempt another painting!

Stay safe.

Happy Tuesday.

Blooming

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An early morning shot of the bridal veil spirea. It’s in shadow, so I’ll try to take one later in the day after we’ve finished mowing. But, as you can see, it’s laden with blooms this year. Sometimes there are less flowers, but it sure is spectacular this year! Same with the lilacs. I just looked up (via search on this blog) when I planted the lilac bush: May 2008. So it’s taken 13 years for it to get to this point. In gardening, patience is a virtue.

I take no credit for the spirea. It was here when we moved in and I suspect it’s been there for a long time, just as the peonies have. The peonies and the spirea live right at the edge of the culvert down by the road.

Today we mow. We’re so silly – both of us woke up excited at the prospect of mowing. It’s highly satisfying and it’s also good exercise.

The seeds have been sown, all the pots have been filled. The only thing I have yet to do is mulch and I’ll do that on Monday and Tuesday. We’re due for rain tomorrow.

In the meantime, I watched one of the robins fly back and forth to the nest this morning. I haven’t seen the wrens at all lately, so I am, of course, worried that something happened to them, or their babies – if they had them. The female sits on the eggs for 10 – 16 days, so maybe she’s in there? Don’t know. If only I had a camera in that little trailer!

Don is making some eggs to, and I quote, “fortify us for mowing.” Okay! I’m lucky, and I know it, that he likes to cook. Both Meredith and I married guys who do most of the cooking.

Okay my friends, have to go. As soon as we go get the lawn mower from the shed, that robin will go nuts.

Stay safe.

Happy Saturday.

 

Day Four Hundred Eighteen

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Rain, rain and more rain! It’s dreadfully dreary here today, but I must note that it’s getting greener and greener out here. And when it’s darkish and rainy, the green is more intense. More and more trees are leafing out.

And I just saw one of the wrens going inside the birdhouse.

A little porch update: more green in the background, some pots filled with flowers, and you can see the stone doves on the bench. I haven’t been able to sit out there very much. Soon.

We did some work outside yesterday, putting up the new chicken wire for the chicken wire fence garden. I also did a lot of pruning around the property (there’s so much more to do) and I’m starting to cut back the big spirea bush that borders the Annabelle hydrangea on the far side of the porch – right next to the glider. Both bushes look as if they had some damage over the winter, especially the spirea. It was almost flat on the ground in some places, which makes me think that it was flattened by snow for too long a time. That’s the first time that’s ever happened. So I’m cutting large portions of it back. It was overgrown anyway. And then I’ll try to find a way to make it look more attractive there. Mulch will be added to the bare ground. Maybe another small bush? I’ll have to see what seems indicated.

Today is too wet and rainy to do anything outside. Tomorrow will be better. The grass is really long – it grows so quickly at this time of year – and it’s too wet to mow. So that will have to wait until tomorrow or Friday.

I have to say it’s so nice to finally see green everywhere!

I’ve been gathering some supplies to start in on something I’ve been thinking about for a long time: oil painting. When an idea keeps haunting me, I know it’s time to act. Now, I have always thought of myself as the one family member that didn’t get that kind of artistic talent. (I know, I have many other talents, and I’m grateful.) My dad was an oil painter and a strong memory of my childhood is my dad standing at his easel in the middle of the living room. We lived in a very small house, so there was not room for a den or a studio space, so Dad’s studio was the living room. He was quite talented. I don’t remember what inspired him to paint, though he always sketched a bit. He had a natural talent. The smell of oil paints is a big part of my childhood sense memory. It’s comforting. I’ve been following along with several people on IG who paint in oils and many of them started painting during lockdown. I now realize there’s no right or wrong way to do it, so I’ve purchased a few tubes of paint and some canvas panels and some brushes. A great help: the tutorials posted by Miss Mustard Seed on her blog. Now, I just have to throw caution to the wind and start.

When my father died, Meredith and I cleaned out my parents’ condo. I know my father’s wooden paint box was there, but I have no idea what happened to it. I think we threw it out and now, of course, I could just kick myself for doing that. It would be so lovely to have it.

But I’m getting way ahead of myself. Let’s see if this new thing sticks.

Stay safe.

Happy Wednesday.

 

Lambs Like to Party

Lambs Like to Party

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