There's a little bonus amongst the pea sprouts in two of the pergola planters. I almost yanked them last week, but they had that look -- you know, more substantial than your run-of-the-mill weed -- and now I've been rewarded with flowering friendlies that found their way into the organic soil mix we used.
I had a heck of the time with the photography -- this being in a spot that required contortions and, even then, it was impossible to actually see the LCD screen while the picture was taken -- you could call it "point-and-blindly-shoot" photography. The camera kept wanting to focus on what was behind the plant, as if the plant weren't even there. I finally threw down one of my crocheted squares for a backdrop, but it's still not all that great.
I can't help but think of Gladys. Remember her? The Stevens' nosy neighbor on Bewitched? I'd have driven Gladys off the deep end long ago and I'm thankful everyday that I don't have neighbors of the nosy -- or any other -- kind on the east side of my house.
The square on the left is a "good" square, the square on the right a "bad," but I love that color combo and will defnitely use it again for "good." I'm undecided as to the final color combo and also the final shape, but it'll all come together. I'm having fun with them.
I'm pointing at one of the Blue Angel hosta shoots that I uncovered last night -- they're huge! I just love those things -- they get bigger every year. This photo was taken in plain view of a potential Gladys or two, but I took my chances.
Sending out an S.O.S. I was going to post this the other day for my Saturday sky. It's Bookish Wendy's knit-signal -- to be used in much the same way as the Commissioner would use the bat-signal to summon Batman & Robin -- which I've only had to use once before. Initially, I was going to put it up full-screen -- not so much to summon anyone, but just to signify that there's a little distress.
Alison wants to move to Seattle this fall. She says that she just needs to get out, go somewhere else... and her boyfriend is moving there in a few weeks.
Damn, that's far.
Can I take it back, what I said last week about her wings and going far?
The thing is, I understand completely -- probably more than she thinks I do -- and I'm doing okay. Mostly. I don't know if I'd have taken this so well a month ago. I did the same thing -- but different. The situation was different. I moved to the Oregon coast after a breakup and had a pretty good job waiting for me. Seattle with a boyfriend -- I didn't think it was that serious, move-across-the-country serious, and maybe it isn't... or maybe it is... I don't know. Am I not seeing clearly? I don't want her to go. Did my mom feel this way? I don't think I was as sensitive to her as Ali is to me. I know she has to go. What can I do? This is growing up. This is what Twenty can do. This is the goal, pretty much, isn't it? I wouldn't have done my job if she didn't ever want to leave. I didn't really believe her when she told me, at age 8, that she'd live with us forever... or at 12 when she said she wanted to buy our house one day.
I'll be fine. I know I'm in plenty of good company and I know I'll survive -- maybe with some heart-clutching panics and pangs and a few self-indulgent tears along the way. This is nothing new, except that it's new to me. They just grow up so damn fast -- soveryfast. I knew it would happen eventually. I guess. I always thought this mom stuff would get easier as the kids got older. Send hugs.