“Ah! There is nothing like staying home, for real comfort.” — Jane Austen
Looking down from my perch at the upstairs window I could see Harry, the cat, sitting on the bridge over the spillway-his favorite spot. Harry sits there for hours watching what most of us never see or walk right over. I was enjoying my own week of reverie as my workload had been light and my morning walking partner and sole motivator was otherwise occupied. I did promise her I would do a few stretches while she was gone. And I did. A few.
The mornings of my “stay-cation” started with coffee in bed, a devotional booklet, and Wilhelmina, the other cat, pouncing my feet through the bedcovers. A lot of time was spent simply staring out the window. The leaves were changing colors; some letting go and fluttering to the ground. A squirrel chattered and shook his tail while clinging to the side of a thick cedar tree. Birds sang or squealed. One bird constantly sounded like it was in distress. Not really a melodic sound. Another bird, as I described to Sam, makes a sound like sticking paper into a fan-a rapid “clack, clack, clack.” Sam identified the bird as a Kingfisher, the one that sits on the post of the dock while fishing. The clacking usually happens when I step outside the door letting the screen door slam. And sometimes it happens when Harry gets too close.
Having extra time allowed me to move on to yard work. Finally, I was able to plant my wildflower seed in the raised beds. The soil had been tilled and amended with topsoil, peat moss, and Penick’s soil conditioner. I lightly raked the soil and broadcast the seed first methodically in one direction then again perpendicular to the first seeding. As instructed, I walked over the seed, sometimes shuffling my feet to press the seed slightly into the soil. I did a light watering with a sprinkler since we are still in drought mode. Come spring we will find out if following directions trumps willy-nilly planting.
To further test my gardening skills, or lack thereof, I have shared my seed with two friends. They will plant the same seed and in the spring, we will compare. I’m hoping I will come at least in 3rd.
With a dolly, I was able to move the cast iron cauldron to the flowerbed that grows no flowers. I filled the pot with potting soil and planted yellow mums. I transplanted a few Prairie petunias and some ivy. Sam circled the bed twice with bricks. Then I waited to see if the deer would raid the flower bed. So far, so good.
After watching the deer for a few days, we can recognize family groups. Sam identified a family of 3. The mother and a yearling buck and this year’s fawn. We watched the mother push the yearling away while trying to nurse the fawn but the young buck would have none of it.
There’s a lot to be said for a quiet week of reverie.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 41 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.