May. 21, 2006 - 19:37 MDT

NAIL BRUSH

For some years we lived in a house, we thought it was a nice one. Had a flower bed out in front of our porch and one at the side of the front. We had trees and shrubbery de luxe. One of which irked me. It was a cottonwood, which are great along the watercourses out west, but seem to shed twigs and small branches frequently making it a "pick-up" job before mowing, else bits and pieces of twigs get embedded in lawn making it a bit lumpy.

Then in the back yard was a Chinese Elm, a big one. They seem to have a habit of spreading like crazy, at least ours did. It wasn't a matter of mowing the lawn back there, but mowing the little Chinese Elms that had sprouted since the last mowing.

But all in all it was a satisfying thing to work in the yard. Pruning, mowing and trying to shape shrubs and bushes to suit.

There were paving blocks laid from the bottom step of the back deck off to the side, up to where the bushes were. I got a crazy idea on our first spring there and began to judiciously trim the shrubbery around that area. By our second summer there the shrubbery overhung the paving blocks and made good shade for Heather and I. We put an aluminum table and two chairs there and did our ten o'clocks in shady peace.

Before I retired and my health began to deteriorate I had scraped and painted all the outside woodwork and things like that.

Not too long after I retired we saw that inside work on that huge old house was becoming too much for Heather and as well the outside work, too much for me.

Dear Heather scouted the neighborhood, found a likely place to rent an apartment. We sold the house and moved to that apartment complex (that would take a book I guess, to go through all the motions she had to go through to coordinate the sale and move).

So for a number of years we lived in the apartment complex, nice grounds, a small pond, walkways and benches around. Nice flower beds as well. It was almost heaven to me.

EXCEPT -- I found that the urge to work in the yard had not died, or its death was an unnatural one and when we moved over near where our children live into a house we rented, zombie-like uprose the desire to ardently garden this year.

Last year we had a few geraniums planted outside, a few potted plants and did put out a canopied swing in the back where we could sit in the shade and be comfortable.

But this year ? Heh, late on I tackled the rosebushes and what a stickery mess that was to prune and dispose of the detritus. Think they'll do well this year, even so. The flower bed out front of the house probably would be well covered by an 8 x 10 carpet -- dinky to say the least. However it was completely overgrown (and undergrown to a depth) with grass. The last two days I have been spading, resting a while sucking on oxygen and then going at it again.

Next comes knocking the dirt out of the roots and disposing of the grass. Then filling in with bagged top soil, then putting in the bedding plants. Then the contentment of living with a flower garden we have planted.

Am I too old to be doing all that ? All depends, I guess, on how you look at it. I get weary quicker, have to watch my oxygen intake, and spend a lot more time to get something done. Lord I could have spaded, knocked the dirt out of grass clods and added top soil and raked the whole thing, including planting the plants and watering all in one afternoon -- back in the day. But there is deep satisfaction to actually be doing something with the earth and green growing things, even though it is a small thing requiring great effort, it is worth it. Tonight, on cleaning up it has been my pleasure to once again vigorously use a NAIL BRUSH . . . . . . . . .

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