Two Weeks in Review
Not much to say for two weeks, really. Last weekend, we did
yardwork for the first time this year, including sowing rather a
lot of grass seed. Of course, this Thursday, it poured buckets,
resulting in a little stream going into the neighbors' yard across
the planted area. We still had standing water in the yard as of
this afternoon. We want to get more grass to help with the
drainage, but because we have no drainage the grass seed gets
washed away . . . . Chad did spot some mesh to
go over new grass seed, and if this lot doesn't take, we'll give
that a try.
We also browsed some garden shops. We've pretty well decided to
replace the horrible everyellow [*] in front of the bay window with
a dwarf
burning bush, and the spiky red triffid next to the front path
with heather. We'd like a couple bushes or dwarf trees (~6') to put
between the patio and the neighbors' yard, as the former owner's
roses refused to bloom and have been dug up; some azaleas looked
promising, but we haven't made a decision yet. Of course it's
supposed to snow tonight, so there's no rush to decide.
[*] It's like a small conical evergreen, except a sickly yellow.
As it's been yellow since we moved in, I have to assume that it
doesn't actually have a horrible fatal disease.
In other yard news, the power company finally came to
trim the trees along the back line of the yard. We'll have to see
how it looks when it leafs in, but it's likely that we no longer
own a piece of darkest Mordor.
Yesterday we went on a housework binge. Look, the tops of the
counters and tables are now visible! I'm absurdly happy about this,
but we'll see how long we stick to the plan of keeping them clear.
Then we went to a joint birthday party for our cousins Z. (now
four) and C. (now two). We got them books, of course; Z. got Diary
of a Wombat, which is the cutest thing ever, and C. got
a small board-book version of There's a Wocket in My
Pocket!. We had a lovely time—played with Z., talked
with family, watched the kids get sidetracked from opening more
presents by playing with the presents they'd already opened,
admired their new playhouse (and swatted away the mosquitos that
are ALREADY OUT!).
And right now I am waiting for the laundry to be done and
resolutely ignoring the New York State income tax forms that need
to be double-checked. We owe the state money anyway, so they don't
need to go out tomorrow. (We're getting a healthy chunk of change
back from the federal government, so those are going out
tomorrow—and I'm annoyed at myself for not doing them much
sooner—as is a form changing the amount of money I have
withheld from my check.)
Oh, and new dog game: take one of
these toys. Stick some bone-shaped biscuits in the holes. Give
to the dog. Watch her chew the protruding bits off, at which point
the rest falls into the interior and she freaks out trying to get
at them.
Boggling literary link of the week: the original draft of Barry
Hughart's
Bridge of Birds is online (under "Features").
Much of the plot is the same, except the first-person narrator is
the nineteen-year-old . . . Master Li.
Like I said, boggling.