Another Aimless Weekend, Done Right

Last weekend, I couldn't settle into anything. I did a lot of.....stuff, I guess, but didn't finish a single thing I started. It all felt unsuccessful, disjointed, and unproductive. I think two migraines in one week, besides being karmically unfair, had cooked so many brain cells I just couldn't muster a plan. And it showed. I felt dissatisfied about last weekend.

This weekend, I had made a list of the things I wanted to do. It went a little like this:

• Clean the garage
• Dismantle old storage unit in basement
• Sort boys' outgrown clothing and organize dressers
• Paint bathroom ceiling
• Mulch front yard perennial garden

If you see the problem with this list, well, so did I by Thursday night. I have only 48 hours for one weekend, and I don't have multiple avatars or access to amphetamines. Clearly, I'm insane. Or unrealistic. Both.

It's at this point in planning anything that I start spinning my wheels mentally. I get overwhelmed with the bigness of my lists. If I'm not really careful, the list hits the trash can, my ass hits the sofa, and another weekend goes by in half-hearted attempts at not much of anything.

I am my own worst enemy.

By Friday night I'd abandoned the list and simply chose the one thing I wanted to do. I wanted to be outside. I wanted to garden. Did all those other things on the list need doing? Yes. Were they going to get done this weekend? No way. Even if I tried. So, Saturday morning the boys and I were at the garden center:

I spent the weekend in the garden, mulching. Eight bags total. But the weekend was made up of other little moments too. I was not always slave to the mulch.

Many of the other things were garden related. I weeded, which is a form of meditation for me. I moved plants around. I start out with gloves and a trowel but always end up with bare paws, hands in the dirt. Thank goodness for the existence of nail brushes and moisturizers.

I conquered a little more real estate from the weedy and forsaken area across the front of the house:

It doesn't look fabulous, yet. I ran out of mulch on this side of the yard. But the area was cleared of overgrowth and a place created for access to the tap and hose. The hose rack is new, but I'm not sure how I feel about it holding up kinked and filthy old garden hose for everyone to see, even if it makes everything more organized and easy to use. I'll have to make sure something bushy and pretty gets planted in front of it.  Those two clumps of green on the left are starts of sedum. It's a great ground cover and I like the way it fills in around pavers.

The daylilies my sister sent me two seasons ago are filling in thick and healthy this spring. It's going to be a beautiful show by July. ( I still need to weed the grass out from between them before mulching in this photo. The pointy plants in the far background are lily of the valley, one of my favorites.)

These petunias, called Picasso in Pink, are amazingly edged in chartreuse green. These things just seem to leap into my cart at the garden center and ride home with me. 

They went into a hanging basket with some other trailing plants:

Right now the bird feeder on the left is just for looks, so I could take the picture. I got it second-hand, and the bottom three inches inside is a hardened brick of old, stale bird seed. I need to get it down and clean it out properly before I can start serving up dinner to the birdie friends.

The basket and feeder are hanging on this garden stake:

Two-dimensional rabbits are the only ones I care to have in the garden. The real ones eat the lilies. You can see the hydrangea we moved in a previous post leafing out well in the background far right. It lived! Oh, and see? Proof of mulching. It wasn't all puttering.

My other big diversions?

It was Mother's Day on Sunday, and we had Grandma (my mother) over for afternoon coffee. The cake is courtesy of me, and the centerpiece can of grass is courtesy of Ben's third grade soil science unit. Do I not know how to Martha Stewart it up in here?

I celebrated by wearing my funky chicken apron:

Joe and Ben made me garden stepping stones for my Mother's Day present. I can think of no better way to dress up that new mulch:

Ben and Joe also began their adventure in container tomato and pepper gardening. Here are my proud farmers: 

We bought edgers, but didn't get them installed. Yes, it would be better to install edging first, then mulch. I don't always do things in the right order all the time. I'm a little difficult that way. 

I did a few other containers too:

In the end, this weekend was aimless too, but in a fundamentally different way than last weekend. Instead of being a disjointed pile of half-started, never-finished items and resulting guilt, it was more like a two-day riff with a common theme. Granted, I'm going to enjoy a two-day riff themed "Garden, Kids, and Cake" a lot more than I'm going to like, say, "Sanding, Spackling and Priming," but I think there's something to be learned from this weekend.

And that's this: choose one.

I think I should still make lists. It's a way of telling myself what my current priorities are out of the approximately 852 things that need to be done to this house. But I shouldn't expect the list to be all action items. I should learn to consider them more like a multiple choice set. But the only correct answer is my inclination.

I think choosing one is more realistic. I think it's more likely I retain a grasp on my sanity. Choosing one also leaves space for grace to fall into my day-- the kind of grace that includes soup cans of grass, cake, new flowers and deciding to move a clump of perennials from here to there. By choosing one, I ended up getting that one chosen thing done, and a jumble of other good things too. That's the kind of "aimless" that feels like a happy accomplishment by Sunday night.

Lamp Love: Seattle Finds

I am gradually getting around to all the little bits and pieces we picked up during our Seattle trip. It's fun to revisit that way when March seems already a distant memory. And since I haven't done a Lamp Love post in ages, I thought it was a good time to roll out this photo I snapped at the Seattle Antiques Market.

I've loved that place for a long time, though we didn't spend much time in it this trip. Grant is a history buff but doesn't necessarily share my love of old things. However, it had enough military antiques that he was willing to look a few minutes, so we ducked in to check it out.

These lamps stood out to me as really different from the usual in glass/crystal lamps, which tend to be a bit foofy and feminine. I know, because I have a boudoir set that's definitely in that camp. But these have classy, kind of Art Deco lines that sparkle but aren't fussy. I could definitely see these in a formal living room. And just as a bonus, check out those matching green mantel vases in the background. Sweet!

I'll be back sooner rather than later with another lamp link because (hides face in shame) I bought another set of lamps for the house. I'll let you in on the what and where as soon as I settle on a few other corresponding details.

In the mean time we're getting set up for a weekend of either a) spreading mulch or b) working on the bathroom, depending on sunshine or rain. I never know what to count on any more. It's been that kind of spring.

What's up for you this weekend?

Bits of This and That: An Aimless Weekend

Let's just get this out there up front: weeks that start off with not just one but two migraines aren't going to finish off well no matter what you do. One is bad enough, but one on Monday and another on Tuesday meant that I spent the rest of the week in that migraine hangover that sufferers know so well.

It was a bummer. We'd started out the week with lovely weather, blue skies, and daffodils. The kids and I got our hands in the dirt: 

We'd planted dozens of gladiolus bulbs, to remind us of my paternal grandmother, Verlene. They are something my sister and I both remember about her garden. Dyan bought some and shipped the rest to me. It's a good project for two sisters to share: memory gardening. 

But then I had the headaches, and other than keeping myself glued together enough to get through each work day, nothing much got done.

And then this happened:

Snow. In May. We got about four inches. I guess I shouldn't complain, since other parts of the Midwest got as much as 10 to 12 inches. Yes, you read that right.

Now, snow in May isn't unheard of where I live. In fact, the last recorded date of snow ever in my area is 12 inches on May 28, 1947. But getting snow in May is enough to send most of us around here, who've seen a pretty nasty winter as it is, into moods ranging from extreme irritation to homicidal.

After the migraines, I didn't have the energy for homicidal. So I just moped.

I had thought that after malingering all week I'd hit the ground running for the weekend. I met with some girl friends for margaritas Friday after work.

I also shopped at Target:

Target is currently featuring Vera Neumann scarves. She was a Mid-century artist who got started screen printing scarves on surplus parachute silk during WWII, and become a fashion icon of the 40s, 50s, and 60s. You can read more about the collection with Target's online magazine, and find links to purchase the scarves. There are 17 of them! I had a hard time choosing, but ended up drawn the most to this one. I love the brown branches, the fresh green and bright red. It'll look fabulous with my red cotton cardigan.

I also picked up some nail polish:

The clear periwinkle blue is such a mood lifter. The polish, scarf, and margaritas were "migraine survivor" consolation prizes for myself.

That was Friday.

I bought paint for the bathroom ceiling......but didn't paint the ceiling.

I bought a frame for a piece of artwork for Grant's room......but didn't hang it.

I wandered around the yard holding a wee little tree that Ben got at school for Arbor Day. He has his heart set on planting it and I was considering just the right place. It's just a stick, but it is a viburnum and should look like this when grown:

Image source: Missouri Botanical Garden

But I didn't plant it. It's still in its little mesh bag on the screen porch.

I also looked at this:

It's the little filthy strip of carpet that was left from removing the carpet in the living room. That's the threshold between the living room hardwood and the foyer vinyl.

I thought perhaps now was the time to not only get that yucky last bit of carpet up, but also rip up the metal threshold, and the vinyl floor too.

But once I got the carpet and metal tack strip up..... I quit. 

I ordered a few things online needed for house projects....but didn't work on any.

I wandered from one little thing to another, puttering, and sitting down a lot for coffee and cream and flipping through magazines and browsing Pinterest. I did laundry and cleaned the older boys rooms and shuffled around the kitchen.

In the midst of the weekend I was feeling discouraged about my energy levels and lack of purpose, but as Sunday grew to a close and the boys and I ate supper together, I realized that it was a weekend to regroup, take a breath, and gather oneself together. Sometimes those weekends are as much a necessary part of the recipe for progress as those hardworking, jam-packed weekends.

It's a new week, blessedly snow and migraine free. I'll be back with you soon. 

Do I Have To? Move a Shrub

Welcome to On the Doorstep's very first outdoor "Do I Have To?" the monthly segment where I tackle a home improvement chore that makes me whine.

I've been irritated since we moved into the house by a shrub planted right by the front door. Let me correct that. I'm not irritated by the shrub. It's a "Limelight" hydrangea, and during the summer she looks a lot like this:

Source: University of Georgia Extension Services

She is just fine and pretty when in bloom. It's where she was planted that's irritating.

According to landscape guidelines, foundation shrubs, trees, and plants should be planted a distance from the house that coincides with their full-grown size. If you look up the info on "Limelight," they are about 6 feet in diameter when full grown. That means it needs to be planted at least 3 feet from a foundation or fence, plus a little extra for air circulation.

So where was our Limelight planted?

About 8 inches from the brick:

She was planted smack up against the foundation, in the corner by the front deck. Irritating. When it rained her wet foliage was up against the wood siding, and in the winter her branches knocked against the house, right outside a bedroom window. Really irritating.

I wasn't looking forward to the job because I had no idea how big of a root ball was under this thing, and after my adventures removing maiden grass last year (see this post), I dreaded the possibility of wrestling for hours with a stubborn piece of plant life. But we'd had a rainy week the second week in April, followed by a sunny Saturday. I wanted to seize the opportunity to do the digging while the ground was soft.

I started by raking away a layer of pea gravel. Then I excavated around and as far under the root ball as I could. It looked like roots were pretty shallow, and with a lot of horizontal roots just under the soil. I don't know if that's the way these shrubs are, a sign of not enough deep watering, or a sign of being in too constricted of a space. This took about ten minutes of digging, though it doesn't look like much in the photo.

There are no pictures of the next part, because it involved me giving the branches a gigantic bear hug and bending them out of the way with my whole body, while Grant trenched out more with the spade so we could pull her loose. This is what we ended up with after fifteen minutes of further digging.  Readers can also see that we have yet to do the landscaping across the front gable of the front of the house, so-- weeds, sump drainage hose, landscape pavers and other ugliness: 

(My house's normally awful beige color looks even worse in this photo. Hurray! Not.)

See? Root ball, not that big:

After backfilling the hole, Grant made a fresh start in a new location:

Here's "Limelight" in her new location. It's now a generous 3 1/2 feet from the foundation and the porch, so she shouldn't cause any trouble with either. She looks a lot less cramped, and has more room to grow: 

Even with all the rain we've had, I gave her a good slow drink:

Here's a photo to give readers a little comparison. The big red "X" marks the shrub's previous location.

I'm glad to have this task out of the way. I think I may have dreaded it all out of proportion to what it ended up being, but you never know until it's over. I'll consider myself lucky.

It gets a major item out of the way for landscaping the front foundation. We've come a long way from this: 

To this: 

And this: 

We'll be thrilled to reclaim a little more territory for the bees, birds, and butterflies!

Fork and Spoon Friday: Hungarian Cream Cake

When I'm cooking, pretty is not on the schedule. Most of the time, I'm slinging hash.

Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. But I've got four boys to feed, and let's just say I'm not individually plating entrees with garnishes. Get it shopped, chopped, cooked, and on the table is my usual way of things, week after week. 

I get tired of it sometimes. I actually enjoy cooking when I have the time, when I'm not catering to the large appetites of all four and the picky tastes of two of them. Sometimes, I just want to take my time making one good thing. Sometimes I want to experiment a little. 

Last Friday evening instead of going out, I stayed in with my mixer. Ever since I picked up this small cookbook last fall: 

I've been interested to try some of the recipes in it. The cakes looked promising, old- fashioned,  and rich. I hadn't baked a "real cake" in a while. 

I picked out this one: 

Luckily we have a local dairy that sells the thick, unprocessed cream our grandmothers were likely to have used in such a recipe (The cookbook was published in 1934).

"Sift flour once, measure, add baking powder and salt, and sift together three times." I did this step, and I think it matters for older recipes. I didn't have a sifter, but used a sieve to get the same effect. And look how much flour was left over (on the right) after measuring from the first sift:

The volume of the sifted flour really is more. 

One of my favorite things, a mixing bowl made by a local artist: 

Getting the sugar and eggs pale and frothy. I love the delicate color. It looks like satin: 

After the dry ingredients and cream are added, the batter looks like a big mound of french vanilla ice cream. And yes, of course I taste tested. You could eat the bowlful without baking. Not that you should, but you could. I promise I wouldn't judge. 

No matter what a cake recipe says, I grease and put a wax paper circle in the bottom, grease again, and then flour. That way I know the layer will always come out of the pan: 

I spread the batter evenly and baked. The recipe, I should point out, is HUGELY WRONG on bake time. I baked my layers at 350°F for 25 minutes (not the 50 in the recipe) and the cake was done to a turn. If I'd baked it for twice that time they would have been burnt crusts. Next time I make this recipe I will only bake for 20 minutes before testing.

This isn't a big cake. It only makes 2 8-inch layers. 

This is where my baking night went a little off the rails. I also tried a self-invented recipe, for blackberry buttercream frosting. 

I had some frozen blackberries: 

It seemed like a great idea. But the fruit was a hassle to puree in the blender and then sieve to get the seeds out:

At one point it looked like I was committing fruit murder-- with butter.

Even though it seemed like a simple concept (butter, fruit puree, powdered sugar, a little cream), it was a little too soft to "behave" well, and adding more powdered sugar didn't help. And it was sweet. Really, really sweet.

The cake however, was great:

It ended up being okay that the frosting was a little too sweet, because the cake itself is not overly sweet, and is a bit rich. Still, I decided not to frost the sides to keep the blood glucose levels down in general. Grownups liked it with coffee, and what kid has ever minded too much sugar? I will make this cake again soon, probably for Mother's Day with cream and strawberries. It would also be fantastic with a good fudge frosting. I won't be making the blackberry buttercream again (this version, anyway) and that's okay. I'm glad I gave my idea a try.

Do you like baking? What's your favorite?