In October 2017 Rob and I started developing our latest garden bed—a large curving area under the giant pecan tree in the backyard. For years this new bed looked rather awkward and scrawny, with lots of bare spots and weedy spots, but recently it’s had …
I’d like to introduce you to one of my favorite plants—star jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides), a fast-growing woody vine with evergreen leaves and, now, in late spring, loads of small, white, pinwheel-shaped flowers. Star jasmine is lovely to look at, but the real reason you’ll want …
For the past year, I’ve been working on outlining all my garden beds with bricks. I dig a trench around each bed, sink the bricks about halfway into the soil, and arrange them in a sawtooth pattern. The bricks add a nice, tidy edge to my rather wild beds, which are filled with huge needle palms and free-spirited wildflowers that seed themselves wherever they feel like it.
I usually work on my brick project from four, when my job ends (I’m still working from home), till about six-thirty or seven on weekdays, though, of course. I’m not really working solidly that whole time. I always do a lot of lollygagging when I’m outside. I love meeting box turtles in the yard . . . and looking up at the sky . . . and smelling the big lemony Ashe magnolia flowers that are blooming now in April. There are still plenty of kumquats and orangequats on our trees, and I frequently stop for snacks.
Sometimes June, our smart little tuxedo cat, will come out and supervise my work. She’ll take dust baths and squawk at me. She’s so bossy and busy that Rob and I like to play that she’s a local Quincy business tycoon. She owns all the crappy businesses in town (we pretend), loves to cut corners in terms of quality and service, and is a billionaire.
Anyway, here are a couple pictures of my brick-edged beds. I’m still not done with this enormous project, but I’m getting there!
I’ve been trying to improve the back bedroom again. Everywhere I’ve ever lived, I’ve enjoyed decorating the bedrooms most of all. I had a great bedroom when I was a kid, and I think I’m always trying to re-create the charm of that first place …
Last Friday after work, I embarked on a little decorating spree that lasted through Saturday evening. Around noon that day (Friday, I mean), I received in the mail a pair of vintage McCoy wall pockets—two sunny yellow ceramic flowers that I’d ordered off eBay. I …
On Sunday we put up our Christmas tree! Rob came home with the tree that afternoon. It was a nice, tall, straight tree with a perfect pyramid shape, but when we got it in the stand we noticed that its bottom branches had lost most of their needles.
“Well, I guess I didn’t go a very good job with the tree,” Rob said mournfully as he gazed at the carpet of needles on the floor.
“No, it’s a great tree,” I assured him. “We’ll just put some extra garland at the bottom. Garland disguises all manner of problems.”
We set the tree up in the back hall, then took a festive trip to the Quincy Walgreens to buy some more lights. On the way there we admired our neighbors’ porches festooned with red ribbon and greenery, and then in the store we had fun getting tempted by all the Christmas candy and other delights in the holiday aisle.
Once we were home again I started putting the new lights on the tree, and Buntin, our cute, complicated tortie, started playing with the twisty ties I had tossed on the floor when I unboxed them.
“Oh, Buntin’s so playful!” Rob said. “She loves Christmas!”
Soon more cats got involved in the tree trimming. As I was wrapping the tree in our charmingly shabby silver garland, June grabbed a length of it and began unwrapping the tree. A few minutes later, after I’d started in on hanging the ornaments, Rob reported from the kitchen, “I think Frankie stole an ornament and is playing with it in here!”
At this point, Rob was partly helping with the tree and partly eating snacks and watching football.
I kept working. I have a ton of ornaments. Christmas ornaments were some of my very first purchases as a working adult. I owned ornaments before I owned pretty much anything else! I just love them. Most of my ornaments are toy-like. I also have a collection of actual toys that I like to arrange under and in the tree.
The tree was missing a few branches on one side, so I said, “I need to find a toy to sit in this hole and fill it up with cuteness.”
Rob rummaged through the box containing my toy collection and dug up Pompompurin, a Sanrio character, a chubby yellow puppy sporting sunglasses. He said, “Little Pompompurin says, ‘This could be my time to shine!'”
I found a doll-size pillow and made Pompompurin a comfy little seat on a branch. When I got him positioned on the pillow, Rob said, “Okay, now that is just ridiculous.” He meant ridiculously cute!
It took me six hours to put all the ornaments on the tree. After a while Rob gave up any pretense of helping—and who could blame him? I was listening to Christmas music as I worked, but then the songs started getting a little repetitive. Luckily my sister Kris called me at around 8, so I talked on the phone and hung ornaments with one hand.
Kris had just returned from a trip to Tennessee. She’d taken my 18-year-old nephew, Jake, to visit the University of Memphis and audition for acceptance to the music program there. He got in! The whole family is so excited. On the phone Kris was telling me all about the audition. Jake wore a wine-red velvet jacket and performed “Amarillo by Morning,” singing and playing the guitar.
Pompompurin on his little perch:
I made the deer ornament in 2020, and Mom made the lace angel in the ’90s.
You can’t be sad if you surround yourself with Sanrio characters!
Tonight I’m finishing up a rare four-day weekend. It was so much fun and felt like such a luxury! During most of my time off, I worked on a painting of a chubby baby bunny frolicking in a patch of bluets. I took breaks every …
Some time ago I worked with a very nice man who loved fall. On the first slightly cool day in October during the first year that I knew him, he arrived at work exhilarated, full of happy plans for the season, and he shared those …
I’ve been spending these early-August evenings sewing wonky felt Halloween ornaments while listening to The Fellowship of the Ring on Audible. It’s been so much fun. I sit on the dining room floor surrounded by cats and drink hot Country Peach Passion tea and dream of throwing an elaborate Halloween party for my family come fall.
When I was a kid, my sister Kris and I would host a Halloween party every year, although the only attendees were ourselves, our little brother and sister, and all our dolls and teddy bears. We’d spend months planning and preparing for the party. On the floor in the hall, we’d draw pictures in crayon of witches, pumpkins, black cats, and full moons, and these would serve as our party decorations. We’d also invent very complicated (and sometimes dangerous) party games, such as the Goblin Cross Country, a race that you ran with both your hands and feet tied and an apple in your mouth, and the Ghost Run, which you ran with a pillowcase over your head. The party began with an Opening Speech, delivered by me, and ended with a Closing Speech, delivered by Kris. Both speeches were painstakingly drafted in longhand and then typed on an ancient typewriter and memorized.
We’d save up our money and go to the Tallahassee Mall, to Walgreens, to buy prizes to be handed out at the end of all the games and races. We’d stay at the mall for hours, carefully choosing, picking out festive little items like party horns and trick-or-treat bags. Each human guest (and host) received a prize.
“Supper,” as we called it back then, was always served at the party, and it was supplied by our mother, who never got involved directly in the party but was always there in the background facilitating things. Here is how I described the party meal in my journal in 1978, when I was 12: “We were then ready for the supper part of the party. The table was decorated with our glowing orange jack-‘o-lantern and was filled with good food: golden French fries, hot hamburgers, sparkling Orange Crush, and lots of candy.”
Lol. How I’d love to go back to that year’s party, which was attended by at least 20 dolls and even more stuffed animals. I’d love to see the crayon-drawing decorations and hear the speeches. Oh, yes, I’m sure the speeches were priceless.
