The Road To Reinvention


Terracotta Sahrds

Lately, this is how I envision my brain: shards of broken terracotta strewn across the potting bench.  Where I once had a clear vision and firm ideas, I now feel a bit scattered and disorganized.  My struggle is to figure out why — why I can’t seem to focus; can’t seem to be motivated; can’t seem to get back to my two posts a week schedule.

My first thought is that I have stumbled into a very bad case of bloggers’ block.  Perhaps I’ve overextended myself — time needed for work and time dedicated to writing seem to be at odds with each other.  Perhaps the freshest ideas have all been used in the first year of this blog — after all, once you write a piece on the joys of raking, how many more autumns can you possibly write the same thing?

Then, just as I try to make sense of all these thoughts and worries, stacking them just so — one piece falls from the pile and I soon find myself once again in the throes of worry.

Continue reading

That’s A Wrap!


I hope you don’t mind, but in honor of Thanksgiving, I’m offering some leftovers — in the form of a repost.  I’ve reworked it a bit to make it more palatable, but the gist is the same: a couple of crazy Long Islanders will do just about anything to give their yard a tropical look.  Besides, it’s way to cold and blustery today — too cold to hold the camera to redocument this process.

Enjoy — and fresh material is on its way.

I may be the gardener of the house, but Joe also has his landscape loves.  One of his greatest is palm trees.  His absolute fave is Cocos nucifera, the coconut palm.  If it were up to him, coconut palms would be growing everywhere.  We often joke that he would be to coconut palms what Johnny Appleseed was  to apples — only he would be called Joey Coconuts, which does sound a little — alright, a lot — like a character from “The Sopranos.”

Continue reading

When Holidays Collide


Thanksgiving is around the corner, and that can only mean one thing.  My PHSD is about to kick in.

Post-Holiday Stress Disorder, or PHSD, is the only way I can describe what happens to me once turkey day is done — and in less than a week, it’s about to come on full force.

Just the other night, while Joe and I were shopping in a local home improvement box store, I heard tinny, computerized notes weaving their way through the store’s general noise.  The song sounded familiar, and as soon as I realized it was a Christmas carol, my head ached, my stomach knotted, and my chest tightened.  Goodbye November and December, and hello PHSD.

Continue reading

The Community That Sandy Built


A community of leaves — perfectly tie-dyed.

Community.

It’s a word and a concept that’s been on my mind lately — which is pretty amusing, actually.  I often say the older I get, the more I like to stay in my yard and not deal with people — which is difficult to do, since I’m a school social worker.  In fact, I often joke that I’m an anti-social worker.

The truth, however, is that community is important to me.  I think it’s important to all of us.  As humans, we need to belong, to feel connected — even if only to commiserate about the crazy weather.  (As an aside, I would just like to say that in the past two weeks, my part of the world has endured a hurricane, a nor’easter, snow, and — today — Spring-like temperatures. My heart says, “Go out and start planting.”  My brain says, “Are you crazy?  It’s November!”)

Continue reading

Bloomin’ Update 35: Uncle!


Dahlia leaves didn’t appreciate the post-Sandy freeze.

This was supposed to be a post about how I kept myself occupied after Sandy while waiting for my work to resume.  Schools have been closed since the storm.

Fortunately, Joe and I had power throughout the Sandy ordeal, but the gas shortage had me staying close to home — which gave me the perfect chance to clean the yard.

Continue reading

After Sandy: Let Trees Be Our Teachers


We can learn a lot from trees.  I first realized this after visiting the Survivor Tree at Ground Zero — and now, in the wake of Sandy, trees continue to teach me.

Bradford Pear.

Take a look at this one.  It’s a Bradford Pear — or, rather, what’s left of a Bradford Pear.

It was planted years ago, along with two others, by a local business interested in prettying up a very busy street corner.   I remember when they were all planted.  I was thrilled — at last, a business was taking an interest in beautifying the community.

Besides, at the time, the Bradford Pear was the tree of the moment, planted by towns and homeowners because of its flowering beauty, graceful shape, and instant shade ability.  Their abundance in the landscape — both public and private — turned spring into a flowering tree extravaganza.

The trees planted by this business did what they were expected to do — especially on hot summer days when residents huddled under their cool shade while waiting for the public bus.

But one by one, the trees have disappeared.  One was badly damaged after being hit by a car.  A second came down in a storm.  Now, this is the sole survivor, and I know the story of each of its missing limbs — as if I am telling the tales of the scars on my own body.

Continue reading

Sandy: The Morning After


What a difference a day makes.  Twenty-four hours after Sandy, the air is cool and crisp, the sky crystal clear, and the moon full and bright.  In fact, this full moon photo, as well as some scary and festive decoration photos, was my plan for a Wordless Wednesday Halloween post.   Now, most of those decorations are blown away or are tangled in branches, and the crisp moon now illustrates how much can change in a day.

Continue reading

Hurricane Sandy Update


Not the most creative headline, but it is brief and straight to the point — and that’s what I’ll try to be in this post.

First, I want to thank everyone for their support and prayers.  It has been a very long day of wind and very little rain here on Long Island.  With each passing hour, the gusts have grown stronger.  Each time, we hear the house creaking and the sound of debris hitting the windows.

Continue reading

And The Beautiful Blogger Award Goes To . . .


Sandy’s opening gusts on Long Island.

Today is far from a beautiful day.  Sandy is on her way, and Joe and I have packed up the yard and we’re now inside watching fall actually fall.  Autumn foliage is falling like confetti now, as the first gusts of wind make their way to Long Island.  Flocks of birds are racing for cover; squirrels are gathering their provisions.  Even the air feels strange.  Sandy is a tropical system, but the air is chilled, as the tropics crash into a cold front.

And that’s why I find it so ironic that I’m creating a post about beautiful things.  I can think of so many things that are beautiful.  Sunsets.  Rainbows.  Dahlias.  Maybe even waves of blowing leaves on a gusty day.  But something with the words “nitty” and “gritty” and “dirt?”  No way.

Continue reading

Looking Up Before Leaves Fall


Dogwood.

What has happened to raking?

I always remember raking as a communal event, one that involved most neighbors and all members of the family in some capacity.  Give the neighbors a perfect autumn day, and they’ll give you one universal thought: “It’s cool and crisp and there isn’t a breeze – this is a perfect day for raking.”

Continue reading