A Beautiful Weekend…. On Land.

Posted on May 16, 2012 by Melissa

My 'daffodil' rhodies.

We finally have decent weather in the Pacific Northwest! This weekend it hit 80 degrees, with blue skies and the sun acting as though it had been there all along. We wait all year for this weather. It’s the only reason many of us continue to live here through the dark disgusting winter season. The garden is filled with the majesty of spring. So naturally our thoughts turned to being out on the boat.

“Oh good!”, the loyal reader exclaims! “They went out on the boat and there will be cool sailing photos. ”

But that is not what happened. We did not get out on the boat. You cannot possibly be more disappointed than we are about the fact that weekends are only 2 days long and one cannot be more than one place at a time, at least not in this dimension.

Alliums are in full dazzle.

When a certain mother and her daughter both have gift certificates to a certain spa and they want to go together, and the daughter works in Seattle Monday-Friday, then that mother/daughter pair must go to the spa on a Saturday. So we did. And after my body was scrubbed until it shone, I went outside to get dirty. I spent the rest of the day gardening. Being too clean and relaxed sends the wrong message to others. A little dirt under the nails calms down that kind of expectation.

And when that same mother has a son who is away at college and is coming home for the weekend to do the Color Run in Seattle on Mother’s Day, and then wants to go out to lunch with that mother, after which there will be a drive to Redmond,well, you can see that the two day weekend is now shot to heck in terms of going out on the boat for a day.

But all is not lost! There were some boats involved in this weekend. While in Seattle we took a little wander down to the Chittendon Locks in Ballard. The locks were named after a man named Hiram, and Mike’s grandfather’s name was Hiram, so we feel a special affinity for these locks. Also we wanted to see how they work because we’ve never been through them and we hear horror stories. You know, there are horror stories about just about everything. Locks are only one of many subjects.

This combination makes me happy.

After watching the locks open and close letting boats in and out between the salt water of Salmon Bay and the fresh water lakes, I’ve determined that once more, I am correct in assuming that if hundreds of thousands of people accomplish something with ease, we can too. Yep, it looks dead easy. You wait your turn, go in, tie up to the buttons on the wall, wait for the doors to open, then go out. I’m pretty sure we can hack it. So we hope to take a multi-day trip up to Lake Washington this summer, since we’ve never done that.

I took a couple of videos while up at the locks. Also, since there are no sailing photos, I took some of the garden and stuck them in this post. If I have to be on land, may as well enjoy what it has to offer. What’s that they say… bloom where you are planted? Well, I’m trying.

Watch the massive doors open in this video. Also hear the wind that we are missing out on by being on land.

Watch how they pack the boats in. It could make me a little nervous having other boats that close, but at least they are not moving fast.

Hope ‘Springs’ Eternal!

Posted on February 29, 2012 by Melissa

I am hopeful for an early spring this year. This hope comes as I look at the temperature outside and realize it’s a chilly 33 degrees Fahrenheit. And that’s without the wind chill and the freezing rain/snow that’s been blowing around all day long. Once this winter storm passes, though, I’m going to hold out for spring to come early and stay. We deserve it. It’s time. And I think I may have evidence of such an event blooming in my yard. Walking the garden, I notice that I have a lot of things blooming much earlier this year.

Of course, I say that every year because it’s about this time that those of us who are the uber-gardeners start chomping at the bit to get outside and put our hands in the dirt. It’s true. I have been happiest with dirt under my nails and leaves in my hair. Fortunately, I married a good man who doesn’t mind a few twigs. In the past this extreme love of the garden has vied for space in my psyche with my love of sailing. I admit that many times I have let Mike go down to the boat by himself, preferring to putter around in the garden snipping this, digging that. My garden is beautiful. I’ve had many years of pleasure creating and maintaining it. Gardens are world’s in and of themselves. Ask any passionate gardener.

Last year I noticed that my feelings had changed. I still loved the garden, but I started choosing to go down to the boat rather than work all day. I allowed once pampered plants to fend for themselves. “Live or die”, I said to them. “You choose.” (Yep, I do talk to my plants.) The balance was tipping; the downhill slide into full fledged boat craziness had begun. I bought a hammock, put it up on the boat, and commenced laying in it with a good book.

I usually don’t do much in moderation, a karmic lesson that will take me a lifetime to learn properly. So once the balance shifts, it’s a little like riding a freight train. Still, the karma requires that I throttle back the engine some and pay attention to the fullness of my life now, not simply the life I want to lead in the future. So I’m trying. In so doing, I go out to my garden and look at what’s blooming, plan what needs to happen this year; make time and space in the psyche for plants I still love and spaces that still feed my soul.

Here are some photos I took while walking the garden on a sunny day this week. The Hellebores are blooming! I love them because they bloom in the winter, then keep nice foliage the rest of the year. They are no muss, no fuss plants with a lot of impact. And they don’t need much sun, which is good because I don’t have much to give them up here.

Hellebores, who give up their beauty in the depths of winter, are the promise of the spring yet to emerge for us. They are the hope-keepers of the garden, bridging the memory of gardens past with the vision for the garden’s future. They say to us, ‘Just wait patiently for the future to emerge. No need to hurry. Appreciate me right now.’ And I love them for it, and try to listen.