This, not that

I went for a walk around my yard this morning, taking in the perfect 55 degree, lush, green, cloudy spring morning. I know I will miss the yard. I just made a little pond last year. Right near it grows Japanese irises from my friend, Marie. The bird feeder, which looks like a little building with siding, has not been used in years, since the squirrels and deer eat everything. Besides, the thing is huge. Then there are shrubs, vinca (which is everywhere now) and ribbon plants, which are, at this point contained. They would take over the whole yard if they could, with the mint and strawberries.
The year my dad passed, we got a big load of plant mix and had a decent small garden on the north side of the yard. The tomatoes were great, the sunflowers were tall. We haven't been able to grow tomatoes in years now, since the deer eat them all up and besides, the plant mix is depleted. We won't be getting more. Last year, I tried to grow a few things, and realized nothing was working since the groundhog eats whatever he/she likes, and invites the relatives. I guess they do not like asparagus, since I can harvest that without any problem.
The peonies are getting tall. They will be in bloom before we move, so that's cool. I simply love peonies. I will miss the lilacs I've babied for 3 years. They just finally got blossoms this year. I will miss the redbud from our friends, but there will be others. I might miss the few bulbs that bloom here, the lilies of the valley, the bee balm, but they can all be moved if I want.
I will miss  the violets the most, with their 6 shades of pink and purple and their sweet fragrance, right under my window every April. I can pot some of those, too, and bring them along.
Gene planted male and female hollies many years ago. The male died. Our hosta can come along too, and maybe not be nibbled to death.
But it is the quiet and the privacy that I really love about my back yard. Not one resident, if you count the 5 people around our back yard, spends time outside, if they live there at all. I can sit back there with my coffee and it's all mine to take in, jammies and all. That is also the flipside-- no neighbor friends. The folks who moved in across the street are all to themselves, each one of the 4 families who moved in. We have just one that is friendly and we see from time-to-time. What a lonely street.
I will not miss our garage, which I've hoped would get destroyed in a storm, while the dead tree falls on it. I will not miss the stuff we have no room to put away into the tiny, no-door garage. I will not miss the gutters that back up in the winter and drip in the rain into a bucket. I won't miss all the thistle, the bumpy lawn, the crummy driveway, the awful side porch.
I won't miss feeling bad about all the improvements I could not make, due to time, strength or money. I am letting it go.

Moving Right Along

I told Gene I drink my Pepsi like a whiskey drinker. I do, but with ice and a big glass. He laughed.

He cooked me a steak for dinner. I "rarely" (get it?) have red meat, but I wanted some tonight.

Lots of my neck ache left me about 5 am or so when I finally started to cry about having to move. I needed to cry. I put too much pressure on myself, and blamed myself for "losing" the house. I am not actually losing it yet, because we chose to sell it before we lose it. We've had dreams of moving before, but always hoped it would involve some choices and improvements, which it still might.
I can tell you this though-- it is exhausting, this giant addition to my calendar. Whereas I could kick back and watch soaps and eat bon-bons with my free time, (AS IF) now I will be taping clear tape on cardboard and finding the Sharpie.
There are lots of things we will not miss about this house. The things we will miss will not be apparent until we move. There is no turning back at this point, and that is fine.