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So we had great success with our narcissus bulbs. Look, actual flowers:
And, okay, that success was a while ago given that those beautiful yellow flowers are now brown, dying stalks. But nevermind. Success.
Which of course motivated us to do something about the depressing brown hillside. For the last few weeks of her maternity leave, Cherie spent naptimes digging pile after pile of rocks out of a small bed. Endless rocks. More rocks than dirt, really. And when you have that many rocks to deal with, you have to come up with a use for them.
How about pathways?
Lots of pathways made out of lots of rocks. The goal was both to guide foot traffic along specific routes to reduce erosion over the whole hillside and to help add structure to the blank slate that is the Hillside of Doom.
Also, because paths look pretty.
This left us with two triangular planting beds to prettify and that prettification is underway. One of the paths leads up to Annabel’s swing. The other leads up to the fire pit area, which we’ve also prettified. Let’s just say that prettifying is our mantra for this summer.
Admittedly, our pretty is other people’s barely tolerable. But we take what we can get.
We are now
Every once in a while, it occurs to us that the exterior of our house is extremely depressing. We are still surrounded by fill (brown) and blown down trees (brown) and lots of stumps and dirt (brown and brown). During the summer, the green of the leaves help disguise the problem, but after the foliage has passed by and the leaves are on the ground, there’s no more denial. Our landscaping reaches the depths of its brown misery in the early spring. When the dingy, muddy snow melts to reveal the even dingier, muddier ground beneath it, with months to go before the leaves return, it’s a mighty depressing farewell to winter. For the last few springs, Cherie has always hit this point, this height of brownness, and desperately wished that she’d thought to plant some bulbs the fall before so that this sad, dingy, brown time of year would have a spot of color in it.
Today was a sunny, remarkably warm November 1st, so we decided it was now or never. We picked a spot in view of the house and started digging. And digging. And digging. And digging.
Because do you know what Maine dirt has?
Rocks.
Lots and lots of rocks.
These rocks all came out of a 4 by 9 foot area of dirt. Yes. That’s correct. Let’s all take a moment to ponder what those early subsistence farmers in Maine went through, shall we?
Right. Moving on.
Anyway, we finally loosened up enough area to plant our 12 lousy narcissus bulbs.
Now all we can do is wait impatiently for spring when these little beauties brighten our lives. Until then…
brown.
And in case you think that Annabel didn’t look too thrilled to be helping, you are right. She abandoned us pretty quickly in favor of this:
Kids today.
This is our front yard…
Actually, wait a minute. You shouldn’t look at this unprepared. Go get yourself a cup of tea, a stiff drink, or a bowl of ice cream. Whatever fortifies you in your times of need.
You ready?
Okay.
This is our front yard:
Pretty grim, eh? We’ve got logs that still haven’t been shipped off to the sawmill, the infamous Drip-o-Matic shingle dipping station (version 2.1!), a canoe and kayak that really should be stored in a more appropriate manner, random detritus laying hither and yon, and dead trees clogging the background. And, of course, it’s all brought together by the unifying beauty of fill and topped off by our plasticked porch. It had better be unplasticked for enjoyment pretty soon considering that it is getting warm out and the time between when it gets warm and when the black flies and mosquitoes come out is pretty short, but that’s another story.
Yes, our front yard is extremely depressing. This past weekend it was sunny and beautiful out and Cherie spent a good deal of time lamenting that she couldn’t take the baby out and spend the afternoon on the grass, because there was no grass. There’s not likely to be grass anytime soon, either. It was looking like our kid would have to grow up without grass and that just doesn’t seem right.
So it was quite a nice surprise when Cherie came home from work on Monday to discover that Michael had done this:
That’s a nice layer of topsoil that’s been seeded with grass seed.
Yes, he planted his wife and daughter a little grass patch. Say it together, everyone: Awwwwww.
Annabel is very excited and is ready to get in there and start on her first grass stains:
Sorry, sweetheart. It’s not quite ready yet. The package says germination takes five days. But then we’ll have a picnic.
