Archives for category: Roses

I’m sipping my coffee and listening to the combination of the ringing in my ears, and the sound of the ventilation circulating the air, punctuated by the cawing of crows as they start their day. The sunrise is peach and orange to the east, illuminating a hazy pink and blue sky beyond the western hills. My desk here in the office has a remarkable 180 degrees or so of view, and though rather unremarkable directly in front of me (facing a residential tower on the other side of a small park), simply turning my head brings the morning sunrise into my field of vision each morning. I love watching it evolve, from the earliest moments of daybreak beginning to recolor the sky, until the florid hues of the rising sun begin to fade away leaving only blue sky behind to begin the day in earnest. It’s lovely. Even the grayest rainiest mornings often hold some interesting detail worth taking note of, as I sip my coffee. I feel fortunate to enjoy these moments. I’m glad I choose them.

A new day. I have the entire thing ahead of me for all manner of purposes and whatever variety of experiences I may find myself having. I feel fortunate here, too. We don’t have infinite days. I look forward to enjoying another one. 😀

I think about the roses and the garden. One of the new ones (Rainbow Happy Trails) arrived yesterday afternoon, just about the time I got home. Later in the evening, sometime after I crashed (early, struck down by Spring allergies – tree pollen, specifically) the new waffle iron arrived, too! I’m eager to give it a try, this weekend. I’m eager to plant the new rose, too. I think I know where I want to put this one, intended to be part of a trio of “memory roses” at the edge of the yard, in a spot with an excellent view of the garden, and currently a bit overlooked.

…I find myself counting the roses I have, and adding the roses I’ve ordered. I think I’ve potentially reached “maximum roses” for the front garden, which makes me giggle; there are still other roses I long to have. No doubt a useful lesson in choosing wisely, in embracing sufficiency, and in managing my desires, eh? lol So human that these are still lessons I continue to have to learn, associated with practices I still need practice at. I do love roses… each with a name, a history, and real character. They are the “main characters” in the garden, with a beautiful supporting cast of herbs and flowers, and wee objects here and there to bring attention to some perspective or angle of view (a gazing ball, a small statue, an interesting large-ish stone, that sort of thing). Even more than any one rose, I love my garden. I don’t think I’m the very best of gardeners… truth is, I’ve got a lot to learn, and in the garden (as in life) I am forever a student. Always practicing. Always studying. Always learning more. Handily enough – there’s always more to learn.

What matters most to you? What are you doing about it? Do you make time for the things that matter to you? How do you prevent “all the other things” from crowding out the things that matter most? I sit with those questions, and my own answers for awhile…

…Where does this path lead? I think for awhile about garden paths, and the garden as a metaphor…

…It’s Spring…

I sit with my coffee, my smile, and this gorgeous sunrise, watching and thinking my thoughts. Breathing. Being. It’s already time to begin again…

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about the weekend that has only just ended. The sunrise is just getting started, and I see it beyond the city skyline, as a pale peach glow that reaches a deep orange as it nears the distant horizon, only visible reflected back in building windows. The crows are taking flight, and I see and hear them as they pass by the big window behind my monitor. It’s a Monday.

…Funny, I remember Mondays being quite different than this, not so long ago…

…Years, actually, it’s been years since Mondays were reliably unpleasant for me…

I’m feeling contented and merry, well-loved, appreciated, and cared-for. The weekend was rich with self-care and the charming companionship of my Traveling Partner, whose sometimes wildly inappropriate often subtle sense-of-humor reliably amuses me. (Fuck, I love that guy!) We go together like waffles and maple syrup on lazy Sunday. 😀

…I actually did make waffles this weekend. They were… of varying quality. At least one of them was almost the best waffle I’ve ever made… my waffles are pretty hit-or-miss, honestly. There’s a subtlety to really great waffles. I have a fantastic recipe, but I have a cheap-ass very average quality electric waffle iron that is pretty fiddly and imprecise for both temperature and timing (and also hard to clean). Makes it rather more difficult to get a great result than necessary for something as simple as waffles. This particular batch of waffles resulted in a decent breakfast together, but ended with both of us finding reasons that the results were less than satisfying. “Not done enough”, “over-done”, “not quite enough batter” – all the basic ways a waffle can fail, I got that outcome. LOL I make a batch small enough for two people, so the end result was that we each got 1 adequately-edible-but-not-perfect waffle, in spite of a great recipe. Well, shit. Before I even finished my waffle, my Traveling Partner had shopped around for a better waffle iron, and we’ll have it before the next weekend. 😀 Sometimes self-care is about careful consideration of the outcome we get, what we’d like for ourselves instead, and taking actual steps to make that happen… even when we’re just talking about waffles! I’m excited about the new waffle iron, and I’m eager to make waffles again, instead of facing the idea with some resistance certain that the results will be… unpredictable.

The weekend was pleasant, with mild spring weather, and I spent time in the garden planting pea seedlings and salad greens; the young plants give me a head start and give the recently planted seeds some time to get going. They also seem to discourage El Gato from using my veggie bed as a litterbox, which is a bonus. It felt good to have my hands in the soil. I went around to each of the roses and did a little more pruning, cutting back any dead canes, and pruning off canes that were tending to grow in a crowded fashion, or obstructing a walkway – pruning for aesthetics, mostly, and just enjoying the sunshine. It’s a garden. There’s always more to do, and I finally had the weather for it.

Getting the garden started; it’s Spring!

The sky is now a lovely baby blue, with a hint of bold yellow along the horizon, and streaked with bright pink “chem trails” and whisps of clouds. Looks like another pleasant Spring day, and I’m so happy to see it! I sip my coffee and think my thoughts, preparing for the day, and watching the sun rise. I enjoy seeing the sun rise.

I think I recall that the rain will return this week, and through next weekend… that won’t stop me from making waffles, or taking care of myself and my Traveling Partner, but it will probably keep me out of the garden, mostly. I’m glad I got so much done this past weekend! My mind wanders to more/other things I’d like to do, or plan to do, or expect to have to do… I keep a list, so as not to lose track of the important details. My results still vary, but it’s been a long time since I learned to stop beating myself up over the very human limitations in energy and time that can limit what I get done in a day. It doesn’t help to treat myself like shit over running out of energy, or forgetting something I had sworn I’d make time for. It’s far more productive (and kinder to myself) to take note, acknowledge how very human I am, and just move the fuck on to the next opportunity. I try my damnedest not to be one of the people standing in line to grief me over something stupid. lol There are plenty of other people willing to fill that role, any time.

I smile to myself, feeling pretty contented and merry, and very much “recharged” after a great weekend. It’s a good start to a new week, and now it’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping on the very last of my morning coffee. It’s past noon. It was an iced coffee, though, so it’s still quite nice (if you like coffee). I’m taking a break, pausing my mind and giving myself a real rest for a couple minutes, before moving on to the next busy moment. The sky beyond the window is a brilliant clear blue, something between a “robin’s egg” and a cerulean hue. The sunshine reflects off the residential tower across the park and dazzles me. I consider drawing down the shade a bit to reduce the glare… but… later. For now, I’m enjoying the beautiful blue of the sky.

El Gato – my cat neighbor.

I sip my coffee and think about my garden. The neighbor’s cat started shitting in my damned garden again – ah, yes, signs of Spring! lol Yeah, for now I’m still laughing. El Gato (my nickname for him) is a cranky old half-feral tomcat much-loved by neighborhood children, and fed by my next-door neighbor. He’s not all that friendly, and very particular about any adult attempting to get too near, but he tolerates the kids pretty well. Unfortunately, kids at play are not reliable garden guardians, and given the opportunity, El Gato finds the soft freshly prepared vegetable garden beds quite nice for certain bodily functions I very definitely do not want being handled there. It’s annoying. I’m still laughing, for now, having once been fond of a cat of my own, and having a certain residual appreciation for the monstrous wee wicked carnivores. He’s just being a cat. Still… I can’t be having that nonsense in my food garden, so I sit thinking about my solutions. Once the garden grows in somewhat, he leaves it alone… in the meantime, his dastardly deeds limit how well my garden can grow, so steps must be taken! He’s already wrecked 1 square foot of planted veggies (carrots and radishes), and after I dig out the cat shit, all that has to be replanted. Fucker. For a moment I stop laughing…

…Just the other day I had the passing thought that it might be nice to have a cat around. I am not thinking so now

Presently, I’m trying to recall whether I still have a bit of that portion of a roll of garden wire-fence material that I used to make the pea trellis last year. If I do, I am planning to resolve my difficulties with El Gato by making it unreasonably difficult for him to step on, or dig in, the garden at all. Problem solved. I do wish the little fucker were litterbox trained. That’d be nice. I guess it’s not a realistic expectation of a feral cat, though.

The deer visit regularly.

I’m reminded of my other garden visitation challenge; the deer love my roses (and some of the herbs, and tops of many of the bulbs)… perhaps another day I will do something about that. I may have to cage one of the roses such that they can’t get to it at all, just to give it a chance to survive. It’s the way of things, eh? There’s just this one planet, we share it creatures who live quite differently than we do, and we don’t share a common language, making boundary-setting conversations rather difficult. I’m not a fan of cruelty… so… there’s a bit of thought and effort involved in communicating boundaries with my four-legged neighbors. Good thing this garden is an endeavor I truly love. 😀 No stress, very little frustration, and tons of laughing, and time spent in the sunshine. That all sounds pretty good, actually. I certainly love the video footage of the deer in my garden, captured by the security camera. I get a lot of (s)mileage out of that. 😀 (I’d still rather they not eat my roses down to the bare canes!)

So… it’s almost here. Spring. My head is filled with roses and flowers and sunny mornings and afternoons in the garden. As my Traveling Partner continues to recover from his injury, and in spite of how lush and beautiful the lawn is, I’m thinking more and more of a second veggie bed, or a bench to sit under the redbud listening to the bees buzz and watching the grass grow. All in due time, I suppose. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the soft feel of the lush lawn under my feet.

…That blue sky, though, so beautiful…

Ah well. Coffee gone. Break time is over. It’s time to begin again. 😀

I had a restless night of interrupted sleep. No bad dreams, just periodically waking up for no obvious reason, before settling into sleep once again. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the night seemed unreasonably long and I got up well ahead of my usual time, dressed, and left for work early. The commute was effortless, because at that hour there was no traffic on the road. Now, I’m sitting at my desk, looking out at the dark pre-dawn cityscape, sipping my coffee. It’s a Tuesday, and my calendar is pretty full, but all that begins quite a bit later, and I have some time to sit with my thoughts.

A cherished handmade gift from a dear friend.

Last night as I was tidying up a quiet room that is mostly decorated with books, I found this small handmade paper journal sort of just set aside, waiting for some moment. It was a gift from my recently deceased dear friend, celebrating my 60th birthday. It was intended to accompany me on a camping trip with my Traveling Partner, and as I recall now, I elected to keep it safe from harm by not taking it out into the wilds where dirt, wind, or rain might wreck it, knowing I’d find some similarly meaningful use for it some other time and place.

It even came with instructions. 😀

I sat for a moment with this cherished gift in my hands, gently unfolding the letter that is still tucked into a pocket inside the cover. I reread the letter, my heart filled with love and fond memories, a soft sad smile on my face. I miss my friend, but how delightful to have this memento of our friendship to remember her by!

Each page decorated by hand, each page unique, bringing to mind the illuminated manuscripts of another age.

I turn the pages, one by one, each one different, each one ready for some thought, or poem, or random handful of words to be written there. I felt so inspired, just to hold it in my hands! I examined each page, reconnecting with so many memories of the friendship we had shared. I delighted in the recollection of her enthusiasm for small handmade gifts, and how extraordinary and special each such gift to me remains to this day. I smiled thinking about her best friend bringing a similar cherished gift to the hospital while I was there visiting, to share that precious memory. What a beautiful human being my dear friend was! She was – is – so well loved by those who knew her. Missed.

“Friendship is a gift that lasts.” – It is indeed.

I turn to a page with a pocket from which a string dangles, and a note attached to the pocket reads “Pull the white string up”, and so I do – and as if speaking to me from “the beyond”, a tag appears that reads “friendship is a gift that lasts”. My eyes fill with tears that don’t fall, and the smile on my face becomes a bit brittle, a little fragile, with this reminder that I was also dear to my dear friend. I feel loved. I feel grateful to have shared this amazing friendship. My smile deepens as I sit with my memories for a moment. I’m okay. Grief is a process, and there is no escaping it; “the way out is through”. Fucking hell, what a first rate friend she truly was.

The last page. A bookmark. A reminder.

I turn page after page of this small handmade journal, and imagine writing in it, at long last. What would I write in such a precious space? What words fit in this slim fragile volume? I imagine for a moment that whatever I wrote here might be something she could read, from wherever her spirit rests. Fanciful, but comforting. The bookmark tucked into the pocket on the last page says only, in large letters, “Roses”. I smile and think about the roses I recently purchased to add to the garden with her – and the memories of our friendship – in mind. I allow myself the fancy of imagining she somehow knew. (Certainly, she knew I love roses.)

What a beautiful little moment! It lingers with me now, and I woke this morning to see the wee journal resting on a cushion, next to my neatly folded clothes, waiting for the new day. Where will this journey take me? What is ahead on this path? I sip my coffee and think happy thoughts of trails to hike, and roses to plant, and long summer days in the garden. I think about the wee journal, and my dear friend, and what words might fill these pages.

My mind wanders to other cherished friendships. I could be a better friend; I make a commitment to reach out to friends I haven’t spoken to recently. I think fondly of my Traveling Partner – our deeply loving relationship is also built on a firm foundation of a cherished friendship. We were friends long before we were ever lovers. I’m grateful for that friendship, it has carried us through some tough times with considerable affection and grace. Whatever else goes on in life, friends are such a huge part of life being worth living in the first place. I sip my coffee and think about how fortunate I am to have the rich friendships I do. The value isn’t in numbers of friends, either, it’s in the quality of enduring friendships, and the love and laughter they bring to this very human experience, that can sometimes feel so lonely otherwise.

I look up as I finish my coffee. The morning sky is hues of blue and shades of gray where clouds crowd the horizon. Daybreak has passed. Sunrise is moments away, although I doubt it will be anything exceptional to see, this morning. Regardless, here it is a new day – and already time to begin again.

Good thing I have my commute memorized. lol The Monday after DST begins is hard. I didn’t oversleep, but my silent alarm had the lights at full brightness before they woke me, or even disturbed my rest at all. I woke groggy and stupid, clumsy and disorganized, but still managed to dress, still remembered to grab my lunch from the fridge, still thought to get gas before I left town. I joined a ridiculous queue of Monday morning commuters, a lot more traffic than usual (some mix of folks heading out late, and others leaving early, on top of the “regulars” who depart more or less when I do). The drivers were a mix of groggy, stupid, and irritable, but traffic moved along pretty efficiently, and although it was a bit slower than usual getting into the city, I am grateful that I arrived safely – particularly after passing a really nasty traffic accident blocking one of the more complex intersections as I entered the city (looked like 3-4 cars, and not just a “fender bender” – there were cops and emergency vehicles pretty much blocking all but one lane, and that one was mildly obstructed, too).

I got to the office, made coffee, and got the day started, and I find myself grateful for routines and habits built over time that can carry me efficiently through the first couple hours of my day when I’m so groggy and stupid. I get things sorted out for what looks likely to be a routine and very commonplace Monday, and then take a minute for myself, and this cup of coffee.

…My coffee had already gone cold, so I get up and pour the whole thing over a glass full of ice…

The weekend was a lovely one, relaxed and easy, spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I got out into the garden a bit, even picked out a couple modestly-sized roses to plant with the memory of my dear friend who recently passed in mind. It delights me to celebrate her life, and our many years of shared friendship, and brings me a great deal of contentment and comfort to do it in this lasting way. I planted some flowers (seeds) here and there. I checked in with the neighbor who does some of the yard care (for many of us in this community) to see what his plan is this year, and coordinated some details. I got in a couple good hikes, did some housekeeping, ran some errands. It was a fairly ordinary weekend in my wee suburban paradise. I feel rested and contented, and the smile on my face lingers from the pleasant days spent with my Traveling Partner. So much joy and love. I sit awhile just enjoying the recollection.

A new addition to an old collection.

One of my errands took me to a local thrift shop, and although I was looking for something else entirely, I strolled past the cups and saucers (I always do), and I spotted a lovely cup and saucer that is a good fit for my collection! It’s been a long time since I added anything new (about… 8 years?), and I was excited to see that the manufacturer’s mark is an authentic one. I still need to take time to identify the pattern by name & number, and determine the likely age of the piece – all part of the fun (for me). In the meantime, it sits on my mantlepiece where I can quickly pick it up, examine a detail, and, you know, maybe enjoy a cup of tea in it. 😀

It’s been a wonderful weekend. I sit and enjoy that thought awhile longer. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 🙂