What makes me come alive -

There’s nothing but emptiness,

Or so it seems…

It’s what we say when something is missing,

Isn’t it.

If the liquid is missing from the glass, it’s empty-

But, of course, it isn’t.

It’s just filled with air.

The same as when I say my life is empty,

It really isn’t,

It’s just filled with things that don’t turn me on at that                 moment.

Isn’t life a bitch at times?

I think my drive to be all I can be putters to a stop at the end of the driveway.  It’s the boundary of where I am allowed to be 100% myself…my sanctuary.  While I’ve never been much of a joiner, I’ve given all I have at being a doer .

I respect and care about all living creatures, but my Achilles heel has always been cats with a few dogs thrown in.  I’ve seldom fostered an animal that didn’t melt my heart into giving it my home forever after.  I’m a sucker that way.

There was a time when I added a cat living in my front garden to the group of six cats and two dogs I already had as rescues.  It quite literally was the straw that broke my spirit of caregiving.  I was worn out within six months, six months of never finding her a forever home until we finally made it happen with the help of friends.

Its hard work, but I’ve always known it wasn’t an option to bail out.  Where I have gone my pets have gone…Nevada, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Panama, Central America, and Tennessee.  No one has ever been left behind.  I always knew I would be able to make it work, and I always have.

Its hard work, as many of you know, putting in the effort of taking care of one’s pet as its aging process enters into that territory of your heart ever so slowly breaking as their journey is coming towards its end.  It’s like living with joy and sadness bundled together within ones heart; your heart breaks and your heart rejoices each moment they are with you.

Tuckered Out

No doubt in my mind that the nondiagnosable problems 

Dustin has been experiencing is dementia.

It matches the episodes when he wonders aimlessly around,

exhibits problems of brain fog or being in a stupor,

and has a difficult time remembering commands.

I never approach a challenge in life with the feeling that I might fail, but fail I do.  Although told I was as knowledgeable and productive as those above me, the lack of a college education beyond the first year became a concrete fortress around climbing any ladder of success.  I climbed ladders in menial jobs, and escaped their emptiness and boredom at the end of day.  My deliverance was my home life, such as it was.

Alone most of the time, I cherished my rescues keeping me company, although the responsibilities of their care was draining at times.  I made it my mission after reading an article about Audubon International’s program for the everyday person, to become an environmental steward of my property and work towards certification.  I achieved the designation of ‘Certified Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary” on December 2, 1998.

June 19, 2003 Audubon International notified me it’s time to recertify my home as an Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary – but this time for good.  Instead of being a part of the Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary Program for Backyards, I could still be a part of the Audubon International family as a valued individual supporter.

I continued supporting them for a few years until it became obvious by their newsletters that they had no time for small potatoes, and had moved on to certifying towns, golf courses, and communities.  Although I was a Certified Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary, the program nor support any longer existed.  I was left in the wake of progress to bigger and better things.

The bronze plaque stating my yard is a ”Certified Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary” is still displayed at the beginning of my driveway, and has been a life saver at keeping city and neighborhood complaints away, but I do miss the program immeasurably.  I still garden as if Audubon International is hovering over me at every step of the way.

My backyard always appears incomplete, and I’m beginning to feel it will continue that way eternally.  In winter it looks as if a disastrous mudslide settled in, but at the early beginnings of spring, a mudslide that is coming to life with the first flowering plants…WEEDS.

Weeds to me are wildflower I’d rather do without, but the lovable do exist among the usually nonnative unlovable.  I just live with the whole mess, and pull out the totally obnoxious.  It’s a compromise I’ve accepted in my older age of slowing down.

I tried to annihilate the daffodils at some point of going native, but they have pulled themselves down into the tangled web of roots so well, it’s a feat that never totally happened.  The aggressive ones no longer exist, but I do have stragglers of lesser ones that pop up each spring and are left alone.  I have a sweet fondness for them.

It’s fair to say, I suppose, that my life has always been somewhat lesser that greater, but for someone who never fulfilled many of her dreams, my spirit is surprisingly okay with that.  I am content to begin another spring of taking in the exhaustion along with the serenity of living.

N. x odorus 'Plenus'

Double Campernelle Daffodil

Cassata Daffodil

It was found face down on the ground after a rain.

I cut it, removed a slug from its face, and popped it into a vase to enjoy.

Littleleaf Buttercup

Ranunculus abortivus

A native plant

An erect to spreading biennial or short-lived perennial

Hairy Bittercress

Cardamine hirsuta

Non native annual or biennial species with exploding seed pods

Creeping Speedwell

Veronica filiformis

Non native and invasive

Purple Deadnettle

Lamium purpureum L.

Non native winter annual

This ones a mystery to me.

Viola sororia var. priceana

Common Blue Violet

Viola sororia

Flower opening up

Viola all chewed up

Beauty Mark

I think it is a a Blow Fly

Empty Lily Seed Pod

Common Golden Alexander

Zizia aurea

Hugging the ground and blooming 

Columbine leaves unfurling

Mr. Dandy Lion

Virginia Bluebell flowers preparing to open

Trillium leaves opening with flower bud

Dutchman’s Breeches

Dicentra cucullaria

The corms were planted years ago, but no blooms yet. 

Bloodroot

Sanguinaria canadensis

With an aphid

Leaves clasps the bottom of the stem.

(Out of focus here)

Allegheny spurge 

Pachysandra procumbens

Female Spicebush Flower with Housefly

House Fly wings can beat up to 1000 times a minute,

but they're generally slow fliers, 

maintaining a speed of about 4.5 miles per hour.

Mourning Dove tracks

Snowstorm March 12

Keep Your Passion Alive

With love from me to you

x

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