Spring rituals...

 May 31, 2023

It’s the last day of May! Time is moving way too fast, these days. But the fact that I’ve heard that very sentiment from several people over the last few weeks lets me know that I’m not alone.

However—and also a fact—most of the people who’ve expressed that same view are my age or older. This lets me know exactly what category of human I now have fully and completely fallen into: senior citizen.

Yeah, yeah, you’re only as old as you feel and blah, blah, blah. That is as true a saying as ever there was. Friends, over the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling very old, indeed.

My emotions go in this direction, generally speaking, when I am in the midst of a particularly long arthritic flare up. It is what it is, and while I tend to keep my sense of humor regardless of the level of my personal discomfort, that sense of humor can tend to slide toward the gallows side of things after a time. Enough of that.

Our walnut tree has shed its whatever the hell they are green crumbly things and is now in full leaf. David used his leaf blower to get all that debris off our porch, the porch steps, and sidewalk. It took him a bit of effort, but not much, and the difference is dramatic.

May has been an especially busy month for us. Between us, we had 5 medical appointments, four of them within a single two-week period. That seems to be the way things happen now, everything getting all bunched up together. The only problem with that, of course, is that I don’t like it when things happen that way. Having to go out two days in a row or, Heaven Help me, three days in one week? That’s my new personal definition of horrendous.

The history books will, I hope, tell of all the ways in which that damn pandemic has done a number on all of us. I’m hoping someone writes a chapter on the difficulties, not only of going from busy to hermit-like, but the reverse process as well.

As one gets older, many things change within oneself. Activities of any kind which only yesterday were done with ease, now take much more effort. And adaptation to change is also a very much longer process.

There is one thing, however, that I would like to make clear. I have tended toward hermit-like behaviour for some time now—yes, I mean even before the pandemic. And I am guilty of, (pre-pandemic) having voiced the thought that I would appreciate having a good chunk of time when I didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything or see anyone.

But that does not mean that I willed the last three years into being.

No, what happened next after those muttered words just reinforced that age-old saw, “be careful what you wish for.” I want to acknowledge to the cosmos that I have been so warned. I will do my best in the future to wish more carefully. Unless I don’t.

We’ve replanted the green bean seeds that were planted when David put together the table gardens, because over the course of more than two weeks, there were no sprouts. Since there were also no signs of incursion from the local chipmunks and squirrels, he decided the package of seeds must have been “bad”.  The seeds he replanted must have been very good and very tasty because the day after he put them in, the critters ate them. He’s considering a third planting. I’ll keep y’all in the loop.

He’s also bought seven tomato plants that were at a local garden center that he claimed looked really good. One of the types of plant he bought purports to produce “4-pound” tomatoes. When he told me that, I immediately imagined the honking big “stuffed” tomato I could make for supper. I’d serve it on the meat platter, and we’d all have a good-sized portion! Be proud of me, my friends. I didn’t roll my eyes at his claim—at least, not literally.

Meanwhile, I’m a happy camper, for the most part. I have a few sprigs from my now fully blooming lilacs on my desk. No, they don’t last long, but the smell very sweet. And yes, I’ve managed to get a few still blooming lilies-of-the-valley shoved in there, too.

They’re the image of springtime that I have carried with me since my childhood. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

Ah, those flowering crabs...

 May 24, 2023

This week, the trees in our neighborhood have progressed from showing tiny green, nearly indistinguishable buds to displaying young, light green leaves. Even our walnut tree, the last of the trees in this area to leaf, has got almost sufficient greenery now to shade my eyes from the early morning sun. Almost.

Our wonderful perennial spring flowers—hyacinths and narcissi, daffodils and tulips—have bloomed and are beginning to get ready to go back to sleep until next spring. The two peony plants we have are gaining height and will soon fill the rings that are already in place to keep them standing strong.

My lilies-of-the-valley have begun to bloom, and since my lilacs are nearly there, I continue to hope to catch that mingled scent on the air…any day now. Here, I have to add that the other lilacs in this area are already in full, vibrant flower. My two small bushes are always the last of their kind to show their mauve blossoms.

Back in the day when I was driving David back and forth for his work, there was a small little park we passed every day. On the last leg of our journey home, this park stood beside a rural historical site (an actual house-turned-museum with a plaque, no less). This small park has a little arced lane with two “entrances”. You can pull off the road and park if you like or use it as a turn around—or even as a brief “detour”, driving in one opening and out the other. It’s not very large, comprised mostly of grass and features a public trash can that gets emptied on a regular basis. There may have been a picnic table there at one time, as this county did have a habit of providing those on small green spaces, in times past.

But the best feature of this small park for me was the grouping of three flowering crab apple trees. Those trees, when they bloomed, would be magnificent. But, unlike my trusty lilies and narcissi, they never have blossomed every year. I have no idea why that is, but several times in the last decade, but I keenly recall my occasional disappointment when I realized that they weren’t going to give us a beautiful display that year. I have missed the routine of driving by that spot to see if they have flowered, or not. And because I am getting older, a few springs have passed when that spot has completely slipped my mind.

I usually kick my butt when that happens, because I really love taking a moment to look at those trees. For more than a decade, I drove past them twice a day, and of all the things that stopped forming my “normal” when David retired, that was the one that I have missed the most.

While he was still working, and being driven by our daughter, he would let me know when those trees were in bloom, and I would take a half hour to drive out just to look at them.

This past week found us out and about, and so we took a small detour and joy of joys, those trees were in full flower! I even got a couple of pictures of them.

As for our veggie gardens, they are slowly coming along. We had a couple of very chilly days, and that certainly didn’t help. David planted bean seeds in one of the table gardens a week ago, and nothing has sprouted. I suggested that perhaps between his watering and the rain we got, they may have become water-logged.

At the moment, he’s very down on his veggie gardens. Yesterday when we were talking about them, he used the words, “unmitigated disaster”. I told him the truth. He was having a bad season so far, because he began his planting way too early. He admitted to me that he had been so eager for spring to begin, that in the moment, he couldn’t help but let his impatience overrule his common sense.

I suggested that he write all that down, so that next year, he could take the lessons learned this year and apply them. In the meantime, today is May 24^th—the day before which planting one’s veggies had always been considered a risk. And we have lots of time left, and sufficient resources, to replant and resow where we need to.

Sometimes, things don’t work the first time we try them; and that’s just life.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

Gardens and fireworks....

May 17, 2023

 

Thanks in large measure to the amount of sun and warmth we’ve had over the last week, David was able to build that extra table garden, and fix the back gate in the yard. He was determined to work long and hard to get those two construction projects done.

We’re both well aware that the weather in spring in Ontario can be unpredictable. His desire to get those two outside tasks done quickly were wise ones.  He was also spurred on by the fact that he had planted his seeds a bit earlier than he needed to have done. And upstairs, with the sun beaming through the windows, those seeds did better than any of us expected.

He was understandably anxious to get the plants into the gardens as soon as possible.

This past weekend, daddy and daughter went to the garden supply store and picked up the bags of soil and peat moss and yes, manure, sufficient to fill the gardens. For all of his worry about the expense of it all, those items weren’t particularly pricy. And while he had planned to reorient the table gardens so that their short ends were aligned west-east, he didn’t like the result as much as he thought he would, and just returned them to their previous north-south configuration.

I went out to inspect them this morning, braving the unexpectedly chilly air. He had told me that the tomatoes had taken well—no droop to them at all. But the green beans, he wasn’t so sure if they would be ok or not. They do look a little “limp” and I wonder if that’s the side effect from them having grown “up” so quickly.

He assured me that they were “bush beans” and not “pole beans”. The only thing I cared about was that they were green beans, and not yellow beans.  But having taken the time to examine the beans in their bed just moments ago, I’ve decided to reserve judgement. Now that they are in a garden that has room to support a better root system, and not a small, cramped planter carton, time will decide their fate.

And lest you sense a lack of faith in my husband on my part, let me assure you.  It’s not, because when I asked him if he’d ended up planting any seeds, he pointed to the one table garden that had only a couple of tomato plants, and said, “yes, beans.”

Home grown green beans are one of only two green vegetables that David enjoys eating. The other is Brussels sprouts. He will eat broccoli, as long as it’s only the stems. Dear reader, every time I prepare that veggie, I always ensure to cut up a good portion of the stems, so that when the rest of us have selected the blossoms, he can happily scoop the portion he prefers.

He is catered to and yes, I did “spoil” him. Having married in 1972 it should surprise no one that I have always been a very old-fashioned wife.

We have a long weekend coming up in a couple of days, which in our neck of the woods is referred to as either “The Victoria Day” weekend—or the “May Two Four” weekend.

It is a holiday that harks back to the late Queen Victoria, and is held on the closest Monday to the 24^th of May, as that was her birthday. In our young adult years, it was a time for riotous drinking parties, thus the name “two four”—because the largest case of beer one could purchase in the 1980s and 90s was a case of 24 bottles. And the men, eager to get away from wives and children for a “fishing weekend” would indeed go with their camping gear. But more often than not the only fishing they did was to fish bottles out of the bucket filled with ice water.

Those wild weekends are long behind us now, and more often the other feature of the Victoria Day holiday of years past—large fireworks displays—for the most part have been moved to our celebration of Canada Day. Our nation’s birthday is July 1, and it happens on the actual day, and not the closest anything.

Every year, we took our children to whatever large fireworks displays could be found. And while I sometimes miss those days, I don’t miss some aspects of them. Shivering in the cold as we waited for it to get dark enough for us to see the pretty pyrotechnics is not a thing for me to miss.

But it is a fond memory of a rite of parenthood that David and I, for all of our other faults, generally managed quite well.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

Of cabbages and kings...

 May 10, 2023

Spring truly is underway here in my part of the world, which is Southern Ontario, Canada. The pomp and circumstance of last weekend is done, and while I wasn’t glued to my seat from before the butt-crack of dawn on Saturday, I did tape the Coronation as broadcast by the BBC on my PVR.

I held our late great Sovereign Lady, Queen Elizabeth II, in very high esteem, as you all know; the respect I felt for her was earned by her, and her unmatched example of humility and service. I’m not yet there with our new King. He has a history of service, yes. He saw the climate crisis far earlier than most and began practicing sustainability and eco-friendly habits earlier than most. As the Duke of Cornwall, he used these concepts in the management of the vast farmlands he managed. For those accomplishments I say, well done.

But he did that one thing, which in my opinion was truly quite awful. Actually, I am having a hard time selecting the words adequate to describe the level of wrongness committed by him and how I feel about it.

Despite my feelings about the man personally, I did spend some time on Saturday watching parts of that ancient rite performed in Westminster Abbey. It was interesting, and the quality of the video far and above what the public had the last time it was televised, in 1953. That, by the way, was the year before I was born.

I tape a lot of shows via our PCR to watch at a later time, because it allows me to watch when I have the time, and not to be forced to make the time to watch them when they air. And I must tell you, I was very surprised when, watching my taped edition of American Idol on Monday afternoon, they aired their first live “check in” by Katy and Lionel—two of the regular three judges on the program. The pair were reporting in from Windsor Castle, as they had been invited to perform at the Coronation concert.

It took me a moment to understand that the King and Queen Consort (sorry, can’t go that extra step) appeared before the cameras for the entire world to see. To his credit, he did not look directly into the camera; however, the fact of his appearance was a shock. I might even say, it was “unheard of”. At least in my experience.

I’m almost willing to give him kudos for it. Almost. I’ll try to keep an open mind, going forward but I honestly must report that in this case, my mind is only slightly ajar and not fully open.

In other news, the multi-day rain event we’d been experiencing in these parts finally came to an end a couple of days ago. David made quick work of emptying his three table gardens of their soil. He found a perfect place to put the dirt, too. He and our daughter then went to the local big box building store to purchase lumber, and now, he has completed the task of building table garden number 4, along with that “frame/mesh” piece to put on top of the garden table that will be planted with seeds.

The only thing left to do now is to get the dirt and then put in the seeds and plants. That’s still a few days off, as we like to (usually) adhere to that rule of not planting before the May 24^th weekend. It’s a proven wise decision as we can get frost before that time, but very rarely after it.

My spring cleaning is going slowly, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. I still tend to think I can do more during any given morning than I really can. It certainly doesn’t help one bit that the last couple of weeks of rainy-chilly exacerbated an arthritic flare-up. Yes, I know, waah, waah. But it is what it is, and I will continue to do as much as I can, when I can. My daughter thinks perhaps I might be doing a bit more than I should. That put a smile on my face. Better to have her think that than to have her think I’m a malingerer.

Though in all honesty I should tell you I can waste time, when I’ve a mind to, in ways and with a degree of ease that would truly amaze you.

I completed my 69^th title for my publisher, Siren-Bookstrand, and have signed a publishing contract for it. I have a new cover and will share that, shortly. I know who my characters are for my next book, and I am in a state of high hopes about it and am beginning to feel an itch to get back to writing.

I truly do hope that the miasma that had been plaguing me for the last couple of years is finally done with me and is gone for good. As I said, a state of high hopes.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

Springtime and traditions...

 May 3, 2023

A new month is here, and we continue to progress even further into spring. There is still chill and dampness in the air. In fact, we’re in the fourth or fifth day in a row of it. We’re expecting some rain each day until Friday.

The chill and the dampness are the worst for me, even harder on my arthritis than the sub-zero days in the depths of winter. You’ve heard that old expression, “it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity”? Well, as far as my arthritis is concerned, humidity, which is another word for dampness in the air, is equally bad be the temperatures in the thirties or the nineties.

This week, David had been planning on emptying the dirt out of his table gardens. He’s going to deepen them by adding another layer of wood along all four sides of the top, and then he wanted to move the tables, reorient them in the half of the back yard that has been designated as our garden area.

Remember I told y’all, that he didn’t understand why we should replace, rather than simply add to the soil? He has a frugal, frugal heart. Our daughter and I have both been telling him that the soil needs to be replaced—and really, it won’t be a waste as there are a few areas out the rest of the yard that really need to be “built up”, so taking the dirt out of the table gardens will be a benefit to those places. As you can imagine, neither one of the women who live with him had much success in convincing him that we knew what we were talking about. However, this past weekend, we had a guest for supper on Sunday—the young man who is the son of David’s good friend from back in the day. While that old friend lives a long, multi hour drive away, his son is only a forty-minute drive, at most, to the east of us.

During the visit, David was talking about looking forward to the upcoming planting of his gardens. I took the opportunity to say how, really, maybe he should consider replacing the soil in those gardens, because of the acidic detritus in the dirt thanks to the looming cedar trees that hang over a part of the back yard—not to mention the squirrels who in the fall, once all the produce has been harvested, use those gardens to hide their “cedar nuts”.

Our young friend nodded and said, that yes, he does need to do that. He explained to David that too much acid in the soil could possibly kill what he’s trying to grow. And yes, that settled the matter for him. Now, that dirt has got to go! At least, that was how he felt on Sunday. I’ll keep you posted, because, sadly, there won’t be any work done on those gardens until the rain stops.

We’re also going to get some mesh to place over the box, or boxes, that will contain seeds. If we pant any seeds. David actually started beans in February, upstairs in front of a window with lots of sun, and now he thinks he started them a bit too early. If there are seeds, this year, with the mesh in place, the squirrels and chipmunks will not be able to dig them up and eat them.

There has been a little—and I do mean a little—bit of spring cleaning accomplished here in the Ashbury household. There was a day when the doors stood wide open, front and back. That was my version of cleaning the air. And there was some progress in actual house cleaning, as well. Unfortunately, that lovely fresh day was followed be a really hot day, and then a lot of rainy days, and that goal of zipping through and getting my spring cleaning done in a matter of hours has been put on hold. It was likely an unrealistic goal, so maybe I’ll just do what I can, when I can and call it a good plan.

Yesterday was Nanny Tuesday here, which is the day of the week that my daughter has her two grandchildren over for visiting and supper. And last night, we had one more small mouth to feed. My other great-granddaughter, the four-year-old granddaughter of our late son, joined us. She was excited to see her cousins—and of course, one of her favorite human beings in the entire world, her all-knowing and all-powerful “Aunt Jen”.

Yesterday, it was also “pasta day”, and that remains a favorite with the youngest among us. To please all palates, we have both spaghetti with meatballs, and chicken Alfredo; they don’t like the regular alfredo noodles, so we use the large shell pasta. There is the requisite chicken, and of course that must be boneless, skinless white meat “done the way G.G. makes it.” These are the instructions of my nine-year-old great-granddaughter who is, you guessed it, a very picky eater. And I, of course, am G.G.

Usually, Jenny and I prepare the meal together, but as we had the four-year-old, I told her to just spend the time with the kids, and that I could manage. I really don’t mind preparing the meal on my own, because it’s really a simple dinner to make, and last night, as we normally do, we also had Caesar salad and garlic toast with cheese.

And it didn’t surprise me one bit that the four-year-old out ate us all. Also, since it was the first time in a long while that we had the three children together at the table, and because at four, the little one is old enough, we made our regular Tuesday tradition with the kids of giving thanks for the meal a bit of a production.

Passing on little traditions—eating the evening meal together, and giving thanks—those are important, and provide a bit of structure, an element that I often think we just don’t have enough of these days in our lives.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury