YourHub.com \\ Central \\ Blogs \\ Arts & Entertainment \\ Literature \\ Writing

Blog Entry 6 of 11 CSWriters

Authors, books, and writers in Colorado Springs.

Blog Url: http://coloradosprings.yourhub.com/~CSWriter

Feels Just Like Starting Over

e-mail to a friend | print this | link to this

Contributed by: Laura Pellerin on 6/10/2008

June 10, 2008

Colorado members of Sisters in Crime are on the move. Maggie Sefton, author of the Knitting Murder Series will be on a book signing tour this month with her new book, Dyer Consequences. Beth Groundwater, author of To Hell in a HandBasket, is working on her new book set in a background of Colorado river rafting. We are gathering at the Falcon Police Substation on June 22 to hear Colorado's Attorney General, John Sutherland make his case, which also happens to be the title of his book, I have also moved, albeit a small move in comparison. We made our move from our cozy little apartment into a house.

We are now officially homeowners. The utilities have been turned on, kitchen paraphanalia unpacked, and more importantly, I've found the shampoo. I talked The Man out of replacing the carpet before we moved in, but I was unable to dissuade him from removing the splendid silver maple that cast welcome shade over the driveway. Sunlight strikes deep thru a tempered glass windshield, heating my car's interior to a low sizzle. I'm going to have to break down and use our new garage to actually park the car inside it rather than use it for the work shop which was my intent.

The Man gave up on his chances of ever locating any extension cords that he packed away, so went and purchased a fifty footer that coils from one end of the living room to the other in a burst of glowing, serpentine orange on what now looks to be a drab, beige carpet. Then he demonstrated how his electric personality bit him every time he walked across the living room. I gave in and agreed that we should buy new carpet, that is, I will pick out the carpet and he will write the check. I can also paint the walls in complementary hues of my choice.

The Man bought a book of American style houses. He falls asleep with it each night, his head resting on a pillow, the book laid open on his chest. His
landscape design of choice seems to be one wide, concrete step at the door inside a stream of river rock to separate the building foundation from a contained grassy area that he claims can be sheared with an electric weedeater. He is a zen kind of guy, and his clear cut picture of our front yard reflects black and white colors mixed with simple shades of gray. For the moment, however, he has agreed to put up with my make-do flowerbeds and the bright woodland landscape that I envision.

Give and take, give and take, that's the secret to a lasting marriage. Give and take, that's what it's all about.

Adjusting to our new lifestyle has been hardest on the cat. I thought Sammy was going to spend the rest of her days in hiding. I had to coax her out in order to take her walking thru our new neighborhood. I didn't realize she had never before come face to face with a squirrel. When the cheeky little varmint clambered down head first to confront us at the base of his tree, my killer feline turned tail and ran like a rabbit straight to her hiding place under my bed.

Every time I coaxed her outside, she demanded that I sit out there with her, for protection against the strange wildlife in a residential neighborhood. She
remained caught in this unnatural state of trepidation for three days before she snapped out of it. I'm gland to say that now Sammy sits outside with me, but
keeps her eyes open for stray squirrels that she chases away from my flower beds.

Knowing we were going to move, I restrained my cotton-picking farmer's urge to plant anything this year until I had a real yard to landscape. My revered friend, the Colorado Master Gardener advised me to buy vegetables already in their pots for thirty days if I wanted to eat any of them. Colorado Springs has such a short growing season, that planting vegetables from seed takes too long to come to fruition. Although I haven't been buying, I watch enviously as hordes of shoppers descend on Wal-Mart and Home Depot and Lowes after nursery shipments were unloaded. Happy, settled residents leave with baskets of potted plants, while I stand forlorn, empty-handed. It gives me an undeniable, nagging worry that I am unable to keep up with seasonal, frenzied rites of summer. Like the last rose of summer, I check out with nothing more than I came in with, forgetful of the light duty extension cord I must buy.

Neighbors have contributed volunteer plants, some with dubious common names. I am not a native of Colorado and therefore unfamiliar with local species of unwanted pink Phlox, Woodbine, white lilacs or climbing roses. My friend, the Master Gardner, comments that my experience, "Should be interesting."

She herself has dug up unwanted golden raspberries, some species of flowering weed, and chives to add foliage to my bare yard, for which I am grateful. But then she laughs at my amateurish enthusiasm and teases me on how I've got the gardening bug. How interesting this garden turns out, only time will tell. I hate to admit that I have been reduced to amateur standing in an avocation of a lifetime. Like my first work of fiction, gardening in my own yard feels just like starting over.

< Previous: 'Blogging' | Next: 'A Prosecutor Makes His...' >

[Report this as objectionable content.]

SUBMIT COMMENT

Rate the above blog