My New Love

Be still my heart:

They're Not Weeds

Or, Speaking of Poppies....

So, yesterday I was putting Marigold down for a nap. We were halfway to Dreamland when there was an abrupt knock at the front door. Thinking it was a friend of mine, who I'd promised some swiss chard, I got up and went to the door, Marigold close behind.

It was not my friend. It was the city Code Enforcement officer. He was stopping by because my yard was overgrown with "weeds" and grass. Well, it is true that the lawn needed mowing. It had been about 2 weeks, one week having been unusually busy for both me and Apollo, and the next week having been very rainy (something that contributed to the height of the grass, I think). And I had very nearly mowed the lawn during a break in the rain, but Apollo told me not too, because the grass was wet. Apollo seems to regard the lawn has 'his' expertise (though I'm the one who's been mowing it this year), so I let it go. However, had I followed my instincts, I might not now be facing Mr. Code Enforcement. To whom I frankly admitted that the lawn needed mowing and told him that I would take care of it. (I did, just as soon as Marigold fell asleep.)

Of course, the other problem was the presence of 3 foot "weeds" in my park strip and around the yard. Well, it happens that I have a taste for wildflowers and I've been trying to live my environmentalist convictions by "ripping my strip" and creating a more waterwise yard. Each time he gestured toward my weeds, I told him, "those aren't weeds, they're wildflowers." I even named them for him. But he persisted in calling them weeds, even after admitting that he was 4 days new on the job, having been transferred from the police beat, and that he wasn't sure which plants were allowed in park strips.

To be fair, he was very nice about the whole thing. Part of his niceness seemed to stem from the fact that he had apparently been in the posse that responded when our dog bit Marigold in the face last year and he felt bad for us--he certainly remembered all the details... AND our house. Sigh. Anyway, the form he gave me was not technically a 'warning' nor was it in any way a citation. You might call it a 'friendly reminder from your neighborly city code enforcement department'. And we parted with me promising to take care of the lawn and him planning to look up the details of my "weeds". (They're not weeds, they're wildflowers.) (!!!) He also told me that if I didn't hear back from him within a couple of days, to give him a call and remind him. Right-o. I'll put that at the top of my to-do list.

He left, I put Marigold down for her (rather late) nap, and I went outside and mowed the damn lawn. Front and back. Now maybe I can be a respectable citizen again.

Baby Doll Whisperings

Apollo had to work tonight, so I put Marigold to bed myself. Usually we both do and the routine goes as follows:

- turn off the light
- light the candle and start singing the Candle Song
- rub vitamin E oil onto Marigold's scar
- sing Now the Day is Over
- pray
- sing 2 lullabies
- have Marigold blow out the candle
- hugs and kisses all around
- put Marigold in bed
- sing Baloo Balerie (another lullaby)
- in-bed kisses, hugs, good night wishes, and I love you

We do this every night, whether it's one parent doing it or two, and as a routine or rhythm, it works very well. She knows precisely what to expect--if you forget any detail of the sequence, she'll be sure to remind you--and it helps her unwind and really get ready for bed and sleep.

Tonight, while we were singing the after-prayer lullabies, Marigold was sitting on my lap and her baby doll was sitting on hers. I heard her whispering and I looked down at her. She was holding the doll's hands together and whispering "candle... candle..." to the doll. Just like we sometimes whisper to her, "look at the candle". It just made my heart melt. What a darling little girl.

Six Weeks

I wrote this poem after I'd been dating Apollo for over 6 weeks. I'd never made it through a relationship that long before, so it was a milestone--and obviously there was something a little different about this guy. It's hardly a masterpiece, but it evokes some feelings of that time, like remembering a smell you associate with something from the past.

Six weeks ago I stumbled to this garden,
thinking it a playground but unsure
that castles in the sand would still stay barren
or weedy marigolds in cracks meant something more.
I saw some rubber swings with weathered chains,
creaking slightly in the stilling breeze;
nearby were quiet puddles left from rain,
occasionally disturbed by summer leaves.
I stayed and found wild jasmine in the grass
and pungent thyme entangled in the hedge;
I watched a blue-green fly whose dizzied path
entrapped my gaze, its glittering wings widespread.
Six weeks ago I stumbled to this place
and found in it an unexpected grace.

Back In the Saddle, Maybe

Okay, so I've gotten a little lax about my personal blogging. I've also gotten way lax about journal writing. So here's another effort to be better about both.

One reason is that I've intentionally been limiting my screen time in favor of "slowing down" and getting simple daily things done, like washing the dishes and making time every day (almost) for working in my yard. (My yard needs a lot of work.) And I've been getting lots done. The yard is respectable now, if not a wondrous beauty to behold (yet), and I've been simplifying and improving my home-management routine. My most effective tool is Getting Rid of Stuff. My latest hangup is not feeling like I can get rid of baby clothes and maternity clothes, but I'm frustrated with how much space they take up. Though, now it's not the maternity clothes taking up space, it's my normal clothes. Looking forward to getting back into those pink cords....

I'm also getting more active with my volunteer work. I'm mentoring a community garden that is run by teenagers (so really, I'm mentoring the teenagers and a couple of adult advisers, while occasionally doing actual work in the garden. I've also recently agreed to volunteer at the Pioneer Craft House, helping organize and improve the fledgling farmers' market they host. Plus trying to do an adequate job as 1st Counselor in my ward's Primary. Plus trying to make a dent in the 10 or so books I have piled up to read. Tonight is book club and I just yesterday got the book from a friend. I have actually started it now, which is an improvement since yesterday.

Marigold is growing like a weed. (Are marigolds considered weeds?) And she is the cutest thing ever. Mostly. I'm not a fan of her recent tantrums, but I know that all nearly-2-year-olds have them and hers are, really, not so bad. But occasionally they do make me a little crazy. I told her last week, when she was refusing to clean (preferring, instead, to throw herself on the floor and yell protests), that she was making Mama crazy. She started saying, "Mama, crazy." It came up a few times after that. "Mama, crazy." Sigh. What have I started?....

She's also picking up tons of words and speaking skills. Some cute things she's been saying lately include: MotoBicycle (motorcycle) and DishesWasher. I've been trying to keep mental notes, but I've lost some. (That's the problem with mental notes, and another reason I'm attempting to put things in writing. I don't want to lose all the gems.)

I haven't uploaded my camera since we went to Curacao in April (btw, we went to Curacao in April), but here's a picture from March of my cute little monkey:


That's all for now (Primary presidency meeting in 20 minutes), but hey--I'm here! I'm alive!