Looking toward the 2016 gardening season

Well hello there, and good evening. It's about 10 p.m. two days after Christmas 2015. I'm getting groggy after traveling back from Fort Worth today, then jiving on over to Moody for a second Christmas meal. The new sets of purple cookware I received from my mom are sitting around the piano, along with the rest of the stuff I haven't bothered to unpack and Brian is watching Lethal Weapon 2.

I wasn't interested in watching a movie this cold, rainy evening, so I've been Pinteresting. Upon reflection on my Christmas gifts and hobby interests of late, I've had to admit to myself that I'm just one of "those" Pinterest people; the ones interested in cooking, decorating, sewing and gardening who are really only good at showcasing their best-looking results on the internet for others to aspire to repeat.

Don't pictures like this just make you sick? None of these appear to be 

returning in 2016, if it makes you feel any better.

 

My gardening ventures this year were mostly failures. Yeah, I posted a lot (and with plenty of enthusiasm) as I was getting started, but all I got were two bell peppers about the size of walnuts to show for everything. I didn't even bother taking photos of them, I was so disappointed. My tomato tree was kaput by September. About three rounds of radishes were eaten by rabbits before I finally got some to grow, then I never went back to check on the pot, so who knows what ever happened to them? The garlic bulbs died, the fancy purple flower plant died and the pea vine made two pods then also died. I managed to kill the first basil plant I'd had any luck with in two years about three weeks ago as well. Soo... yeah, I still have a lot to learn. 

 

 

I actually did shed some over some plants. What can I say, you get attached.

All of this said, I still found myself looking through the pins of others for wintertime gardening tips and ideas. I'm still dead-set on composting, but I need to find a way to convince Brian it won't be as stinky as he's convinced it will be. There are also grand-brainstorming-stage-plans of taking the raised bed from last year and converting it to a table-height bed to both move it into a sunnier location and avoid having my precious sprouts consumed by local vermin. 

With all the failures of this year, I am taking away some lessons. 

ONE: Fertilizer isn't necessarily just an indulgence.

With only one of four pepper plants making fruit, there had to be some reason and inadequate nutrients is my first guess. The plants were not as leafy as plants I'd grown in the past, though they stayed green well into November (one even made blossoms). I would like to try them again, but utilize epsom salt, as recommended in a variety of articles, and perhaps some liquid vegetable fertilizer on a schedule. 

TWO: When starting from seed, start way earlier.

Again with the peppers, I started my seeds in late February. It took until almost October to see fruit, as measley as it was. So this year I will locate and start my seeds in January. Plants are easy to keep indoors at that point, so I don't anticipate a problem waiting until March to move them outside. 

THREE: Buying established plants isn't something to be ashamed of.

While I enjoy the process of germinating seeds and nursing sprouts to become fully-fledged plants, I can appreciate the convenience of buying plants that have already been through the slow startup stage. It's really a crapshoot, in my experience, on which has a better success rate, so I might as well use up the seeds I have and buy plants for other items I'm interested in growing. 

So I have some starting pods a friend sent me last summer, as well as a few seeds that never made it to the dirt last year that I will try to plant next month (yes, I'm familiar with the "packed for" dates on seeds, but you never really know unless you try). I'll also try to plan for an update from raised bed to REALLY raised bed and attempt some indoor gardening with an herb set I received from the same friend mentioned above for Christmas this year. 

It's strange to me that failure -- even repeated failure -- in gardening has not caused me to shy away from the task. I go into it with the goal of produce in mind, but enjoy the process of planting and growing so much that the lack of results doesn't really ever bother me. I guess if I just keep getting a few victories each year, eventually I'll have that bountiful harvest everyone on Pinterest is apparently so adept at getting.

Here's the goal: actual amounts of food I can do something with.

NaNoWriMo -- I have not been writing

I have not been writing, despite the zest I had two weeks ago to hit 20,000 words by the end of the month. Is it really that surprising though?

It's so easy for life to get in the way. To let life get in the way. Brian has been sick. I got a little sick. I'm in the middle of becoming a full-fledged employee at the pharmacy instead of a contract worker. I'm thinking about the upcoming holidays. We went to Ren Faire this weekend with friends. Yeah, it's easy to let things get in the way.

I did get a pretty sweet hat there though.

Someone I knew in college maintains a blog I've started to creep follow and is trying to accomplish a post-something-every-day challenge this month. I'm starting to wonder if she had the better idea. Prompts are much easier to follow for me than some open-ended "write something" challenge.

It's not that I'm completely devoid of ideas, I just don't have any that are cohesive or I feel the need to ramble on about for thousands of words. Or I feel like there's just so much to say, I'm too intimidated to start on them. For example, I've toyed with the idea of writing a major dissertation on where I feel I am in studying aikido; my strengths, weaknesses, goals, roadblocks, etc. It would fill a lot of space, yes, but would require me to make outlines and rough drafts and possibly publish in parts, and I just don't feel that engaged with the idea yet.

I also thought of doing a reflection on this year's attempt at gardening - yeah, the one I wrote so many blogs about then kind of stopped mentioning? Most everything died. I got two red bell peppers that were smaller than golf balls. I wonder if it needed the magnesium I saw about half a dozen articles suggest. My tomato plants shriveled (except the one random one I planted in the box that decided it wanted to be ground-cover but never make fruit; it's still green and happy out there). Rabbits ate two attempts at radishes. The third, container-attempt have had something chew on them, but in fairness have maintained foliage for a couple months. The herb tower dried up. The basil still looks all right, but I don't know if it will survive the winter. Aaaannnd... that's about it.

In regards to the hat above, it was the first step in my goal of building a costume for Ren Faire. Brian and I both agreed that we've been going for so many years, it was time to start dressing up. He can't decide between being a musketeer or going with a steampunk idea. I was bouncing between a pretty standard wench costume and a pirate. Finding this hat though kind of cemented the pirate idea. The rest of the costume exists perfectly in my head, I just need to find the other pieces in the real world.

Anyway, the point of that was that I also thought of writing out a complete character sketch for the pirate I wanted to be. If you're going to dress up, you might as well adopt a persona as well, right? I even started writing about her during a break in my new employee orientation today. The bones of a backstory with the barest traces of fleshing out.

Every time I try to write an actual story though all my inspiration peters out within a couple paragraphs. It's not that I don't intend to write much, I just can't seem to stretch it out. Blame the three years of journalism?

I suppose I have managed to write more, even if nothing is related. And I think about writing more now, but it's coupled with the frustration of "Why can't I think of more to write about??" Baby steps, I guess.

If I have learned one thing it was that I shouldn't even try to drink decaf coffee in the evening. I tried that first night I wrote something and I could NOT fall asleep. Sticking with tea or alcohol in the evening, methinks. Maybe this quote will spur my next writing venture:

Hemingway apparently didn't say this, but I'm willing to give it a shot (har) anyway.

Word Count: 713
Total Word Count: 4,722

In defense of sport and demo martial arts

Recently, a video of a ten-year-old Irish girl performing a series of sword techniques has been circulating on Facebook. This was the best way I could find to link it to this blog, since the video I'm specifically referring to doesn't seem to be on YouTube.

A lot of the people I originally saw sharing and commenting on it were not, to my knowledge, involved in martial arts. Most of them were impressed with the girl's fierce display. For a young kid to be able to perform the kata with such ferocity clearly indicated to them a future in badassery.

Then my martial arts friends got a hold of it. I saw this still from the video (shared from a sword arts page I am unfamiliar with) featuring this added caption.

It led to a discussion with Brian about the snobbery we've noticed in martial arts circles. A sort of "pooh pooh" attitude toward any art that is not the one that particular individual practices.

Brian and I have both been playing in tomiki aikido for almost four years. Before this, I had played with a college judo club and Brian grew up with Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Both of us spent time in competition-focused environments before joining the aiki crowd, which does not generally compete.

While there are a lot of egos in the mixed martial arts crowds -- at least in some that spill in to visit our dojo from time to time -- neither of us feel that there is anything inherently wrong with practicing a martial art in order to demonstrate it or compete with it. We seem to be the minority in this thought process.

Over and over we hear martial arts veterans saying things like "Oh, jiu-jitsu is good if you want to lay down as soon as a fight starts," or "Aikikai is too fluffy to be useful," or "judo guys train to let go if you tap, what if a street attacker taps? They'll just let go."

If there's one thing to understand from doing martial arts for any considerable length of time, it's that every system has holes in it. Period. If there was one perfect martial art, everyone would do it. There are different systems because they evolved for different situations, cultures and goals. The United States, in general, is not a feudal society. But we've always loved a good fight (ex: boxing). Thus the rise in MMA's popularity (my issue with MMA is unrelated to the fact that it is a sport, but that's another blog topic all together).

Judo and jiu-jitsu stemmed from the fighting styles of warriors who used swords, staffs and their own hands to take down enemy soldiers. Aikido and aikikai stemmed from judo (I'm sure there are similar lineage connections in the "kick-punch" arts of karate, tae kwon do and others, but having not practiced them, I cannot list them off the top of my head). But no one art was ever intended to be all-inclusive. Certainly principles can be taken from one art to the next and applied successfully; aikido principles of keeping centered, oscillating your opponent and moving yourself, for example, are very applicable on the ground, where most aikidoka do not frequently go.

Aikido is largely a standing art, so my weakness was groundwork. So I started playing with Brian, practicing how to move so I wouldn't get scared should I ever end up on the ground. His BJJ background helps me with the hole in my understanding, and it helps me practice principles like keeping my hands centered in alternative environments. I'm not a fan of the joint locks that he favors, but I've learned where they can be useful, though they don't creep into my randori much.

But what's with all the hate for training to get points? Or training to demonstrate? Just because someone has spent their energy focused on submitting opponents or maneuvering out of unfavorable positions means they aren't as much a martial artist as someone who focuses on "being the water" and moving around an attackers force? Or a person who practices beautiful katas with non-obstinate partners can't be taken seriously because "Well if I do this, that won't work."

Yes, martial arts are generally studied to be some sort of defense system for the practitioner. Yes, martial arts training can save lives and even de-escalate  intense situations. But you can not tell me, assuming that ten-year-old Irish girl continues training, that if someone tries to grab her while she's holding a broom or pole or other stick-like object she wouldn't walk away unscathed. Or if a "points-fighter" jiu-jitsu guy or boxer gets tackled by someone fleeing cops he wouldn't be able to at least daze the assailant until the authorities can catch up.

I just wish the attitudes of superiority could take a back seat sometimes. Sure, there are a lot of problems with MMA. There are also a lot of problems in judo, aikido, karate, jiu-jitsu and any other system of martial art under the sun. The point is not not argue about which art is better. The point is to pick one that works from you and explore the others to fill in holes you find as you go. Keep an open mind.

It's okay to disagree with the approaches of other arts. It's fine to try it and conclude "this won't work for me." It's great to try it and think "this approach would work really well with how I do this." It's not okay to flippantly say "This art sucks."

Martial arts is a personal journey for each practitioner. Some do it for exercise, others to learn to defend themselves. Some love the art side and others love the people. Most I've met do it for some combination of things. Let's not take away from another person's journey by belittling the path they chose.

 

(Hell yeah this is going toward my word count)

Word Count:  980

Total Word Count: 4,009

NaNoWriMo -- Characters and Setting

A writing exercise from this site asks "Your main character invites you to his/her place for dinner. What sort of home does he/she have? How is it furnished? Any family, roommates? Pets? What is served?"

I used a character from a vague concept Brian and I came up with about a year ago of a world where everyone has a "mutant" ability (yes, very X-Men). Over a couple of hours I wrote over a thousand words in a conversation between myself and "Solomon." I did intend to publish it here, but was more impressed with where it went than I thought I'd be, and now don't really want to share it with the public until I've fleshed it out some more in another exercise. So instead you get an excerpt and an updated word count. Sorry...

~*~

Solomon was a younger man than his name might make some assume. He had all the awkwardness of a twenty-something trying to behave as a grownup while still trying to discern what that even meant. 

"Are you thirsty?" he asks, his hand on the beaten up refrigerator handle. "I have some cold water or I can make some tea."

"Water please," I respond, smiling to try and put him at ease. 

"Okay, have a seat at the table. Anywhere is fine."

The apartment is dim with a brown color scheme touching everything from the rough floor to the aged windows. Even the art on the walls has a burnt sienna look. Despite the cold outside, Solomon's home is warm, like most homes of those who can manipulate heat. The brightest light shines above the dining table, carefully set with mismatched dishes and flatware. 

"I made us a pot pie, sort of," Solomon says, handing me a glass. "I didn't have enough of anything to make a main dish or sides, but it usually comes together in a pie all right."

"At least it smells good," I respond. The aroma of pastry and something savory wafted into the dining room from the kitchen with the young man.

"We're about ready to eat," he said. "I took it out a few minutes ago to cool."

I take a seat on the longer side of the table, near the place setting at the head. The chair wobbles a bit and creaks with my weight, but holds fine. 

~*~

Word Count: 1,514
Month Word Count Total: 3,029

NaNoWriMo -- Playing with prompts

While it was still slow at work this morning, I poked around online for some good exercises and prompts to get me writing. I found a list on this blog that asked to choose a set of three elements and write a story that includes all them. The three elements I chose were: a hitchhiker, an allergy, and a mistake in a map. I wrote about a page (by hand), and I'm going to transcribe and try to wrap it up tonight.

~*~

Merle's pickup chugged along the two-laned CR 135. Two newer, faster models of car had already sped past him since he left Molly to get some supplies in town. He didn't mind being passed. 135 was a popular alternative to the interstate for travelers, whose destinations were surely more important than the nearby feed store and post office.

As Merle neared the intersection that would turn him toward Stephenville, he slowed to eyeball a man in a flannel shirt and ripped jeans walking backwards on the shoulder, toward the same stop sign. He looked to be in his twenties and was holding his right arm out, thumb up. He had a weary, desperate look to his face.

He reached to his door compartment to brush the handle of a pistol he kept there as he pulled over. The man walking jogged to the truck to meet him as Merle reached across the cab to roll down the window.

"Hey, thanks for stopping, man," the hitchhiker panted, a half-smile of relief on his face. "I've been walking for about two hours."

"Where are you headed, son?" Merle asked.

"I was trying to get to Krugertown, but I got lost," the younger man said. "My phone died right after my piece-of-shit car, and I think my map is out of date," he said, pulling a dogeared state road map from his back pocket.

"Krugertown? That's twenty miles west of here, son," Merle said. "I'm heading up to Stephenville. You can probably hire a tow there, and the mechanic is decent."

"That'd be great, thank you!" The man opened the truck door and pulled himself in. "I'm Avery, by the way."

"Merle," the older man responded. He reached to shake Avery's hand. "What brings you to the back of nowhere with a busted car?" he asked, taking a right turn onto Miller Road.

"A woman, wouldn'tcha know," Avery said. "My girlfriend. I was trying to surprise her. She wants this cat, but I'm allergic. There's an allergy clinic in Krugertown, I was going to get a shot there then pick up the cat and surprise her when she got home from work."

Merle scoffed. "Never was a fan of cats," he said. "Too selfish. Fortunately, Molly prefers dogs anyway. We have two, they go with me duck hunting."

Avery smiled politely. He wasn't much into animal hunting.

"So why a cat?" Merle asked.

"Oh, Celine loves animals," Avery said. "She has a big aquarium, but she's looking for something she can actually hold and train."

"Train? Never did see a person who could train a cat," Merle said.

"Celine is pretty gifted," Avery said. "I've seen her sic her three-year-old nephew on his dad with just a nod after twenty minutes."

Merle chuckled. He and Molly never had kids of their own, but he enjoyed playing with his nieces and nephews as they grew up.

"Where are you from?" he asked Avery. "Must be a smaller place, if you have to go to Krugertown to get an allergy shot."

"We live out in the mountains, actually," Avery said.  "Celine's parents let her stay in their lodge."

"That sounds mighty nice," Merle said. "We live on the other side of those mountains, but out of the woods. You don't head into town often enough to know your way around?"

"Not really. I don't have a lot of reason to leave. She keeps me busy."

They were pulling up to the main street in Stephenville. Merle hung a left to head toward the local towing company.

"Where's this cat you were going to pick up?"

"Oh, it's at the wildlife preserve."

Merle looked sideways toward Avery. "The preserve?" Maybe the owners had a stray with kittens they were pawning off?

"Yeah, she did a lot of research before she contacted them," Avery said. "Being in the mountains, there's lots of room for them to roam and hunt."

"So no lap-cats for you?"

"Lord no. Those suckers full-grown are the size of a couch."

Merle frowned and turned toward Avery as they waited for a light to turn green. "Just what in the sam-hill kind of cat are you talking about, boy?"

"It's a tiger cub," Avery responded matter-of-factly. Merle laughed.

"Oh man, son, you had me going there for a minute!"

Avery smiled. "It's not a joke. We're getting a tiger, as soon as I know I won't be sneezing my head off the whole time we're training him."

Merle's eyebrows knit up as he started adding some more items to the list of supplies he was keeping in his head. This crazy son-of-a-bitch was talking about keeping a tiger in the woods behind his home.

As they pulled up to the tow company, Avery flashed a smile and thanked Merle for the ride.

"Really appreciate your help, man," he said. "I'll be sure to teach the new cat to leave duck-hunting dogs alone."

"You do that," Merle said.

As Merle pulled out of the parking lot to head to the feed store he called Molly to tell her about the hitchhiker.

"Honest to God, he was planning to get a tiger," he said. "Be sure to grease the bear traps, honey. I'm going to get some more ammo for the rifle and MREs for the bunker. Goddamn people are going to make us go underground before the election even takes place this year."


Word Count: 900
Month Word Count Total: 1,515

~*~

Soo yeah. Not a great story, but kind of fun. Also not the kind of exercise I was intending to do, but definitely got my brain going and my fingers typing. Kind of considering trying another one before the Brian gets home tonight.

NaNoWriMo -- It's time

Four Novembers ago I learned about this thing called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. It's actually an international movement in which people take on a challenge to write 50,000 words in thirty days (about 1,666 words per day, by the quick Google search I just did).

I learned about this while I was reporting in Killeen. I thought it was interesting, but it was several weeks into November at that point, so I filed it away for "next year." Something similar probably happened in the next three years as well, and here I am, at almost 10:30 p.m. on November 2, 2015.

Challenge accepted.

I just made a profile on the NaNoWriMo website. I'm taking on the challenge, but tweaking it a bit for myself. Because there are no police or hard-set rules for this.

Firstly, I don't for a minute believe I will accomplish the entire 50,000 words this month. I'm already two days behind, I have no concept for a novel (well, one, but not really) and I haven't managed to do something consistently in a long time, as oft discussed in this blog. So instead I am challenging myself to write something three times per week this month. I will keep a word count and I will add it to my writers profile on the website, but this is largely just a way to get my feet wet again.

Secondly, surprise! I think I'm going to do the writing here on the blog. This will make it easy add updates to the writers profile and, heck, the more people I tell about this the more likely I'll feel some drive to stick it out. Accountability, friends. That's what I'm seeking.

Thirdly, and on a more selfish, non-writing centered note, I am extremely curious to make contact with the local group of writers. The website allows participants to make contact with others in their area and plan meetups to write and, I assume, bounce ideas and edits off each other. It has been so long since I was in the company of writers and I miss the type of discussion to be had there. I want to know what they do for a living, if writing is a hobby or a passion, what kind of ideas they want to share with the world and what struggles they face. Maybe you can leave reporting, but reporting never really leaves you.

I'm also kind of lonely and realizing how little social life I have here, and I would like an excuse to meet some people with similar interests and maybe make some friends. Yes, that's the selfish part of reason three. Sue me.

Honestly, I have very little worth taking, unless you want a lot of coffee mugs.

So what will I jabber on about three times a week without an outline? Without even a vague story idea? Well, the NaNoWriMo website links to several blogs and articles to help writers with things like character development, writing conflict, establishing setting and other useful writer-y things. My idea is to pick one thing and explore it for a thousand words or so a few times per week. After some time, I'd like to combine the skills I'm practicing into a short story (~2,000 words). I'm iffy on posting a story to a public blog, but I'll make the final decision on that if and when I get to that point.

Ideally I'd do two stories this month, the first followed by a second round of skill-honing and another story so I can compare my progress at the end of everything.

Here it goes. Another internet-found challenge to take on. Wish me luck and determination!

Word Count: 615
Month Word Count Total: 615

On assertiveness and criticism

Brian and I traveled to Alabama this weekend for the American Tomiki Aikido Association Fall 2015 seminar. For two days we got to play with unfamiliar partners, learn alternate approaches to the techniques we study at Full Circle Aikido and in general be immersed in the martial art.

In the week or so leading up to the seminar I had been contemplating starting to document my training journey (four years in is better late than never, right?). I wanted to talk about what I was currently focusing on, what I'm trying to do better, what I'd like to learn in the future, etc. etc., but one of the things on my mind from the seminar now is more personal.

I confided in Brian that there were a couple people I'd wanted to work with at the seminar but did not get to. One I decided I'd rather wait until next time, the other I'd started to get the feeling just didn't like me much, so I defaulted to staying away. Brian told me what I already knew and had been trying to do: just grab the people I want to work with.

I've never been an aggressive person in any sense and the idea of just walking up to someone and saying "Let's work on this" is only slightly less terrifying to me now than it was to me ten years ago. Approaching people does not come easily to me. I don't have any problem working with someone unfamiliar or practicing unfamiliar techniques with people, I just don't like to be the one to instigate things. I want someone else to approach me or, even better, to be assigned a training partner.

From group projects in school to my freaking adult life the prospect of approaching someone makes me intensely uncomfortable. I feel like I need the security of someone else choosing me to stifle that fear of being an undesired group member, to say "hey, you're not completely repulsive and I wouldn't mind being in close proximity with you for a while."

Isn't that pathetic?

Stemming from these thoughts is the admittance that I also do not take criticism well. The slightest non-glowing comment is enough to make me want to admit defeat and walk away from any endeavor. Honestly, it was one of my biggest problems in newswriting too, but not one I talk about.

If I had to guess why, it would probably be that I did not receive a lot of criticism as a child. I was always an A student. The oldest child. Generally an independent worker. There was little need for my teachers or parents to tell me what I was doing wrong, so it happened so rarely I never grew any kind of endurance for it.

These have been two of my most prominent flaws -- in my view -- lately. Maybe it's why I've been itching to get back into my quiet solo hobbies, the kinds of things I can do and show no one and never have to deal with anyone else's input on the final product. Maybe I'm just getting frustrated with actually wanting something and being in my own way of getting it. Or maybe I just need some damn sleep so I can go back to being the moderately-adjusted adult I've grown into being.

Sometimes things get too quiet

Looks like it had been too long since something shook up life for Audrey and Brian, so fate decided we needed two extra dogs, a parrot and eventually another person in the house.

Sunday we heard that Brian's friend/ex-stepmother had fallen from a tree and broken her back. While checking on her in the hospital, she was concerned about her animals (four dogs hers, three foster dogs and a parrot). Collaborating with her rescue friends, we got everyone into temporary homes. Brian and I took the parrot, one boxer and one jack russell terrier, the dogs that our dog would not have a problem with.

I was able to adjust okay the first couple days to keeping three mouths and a beak fed -- though that last one did require a battle of wills -- but after three days I realized I needed to make sure I took care of myself too. I took a night to not drive to Moody or Killeen and just relax and I felt a lot better this morning.

Oddly, relaxing is all they've done this morning too.

My eventual-mother-in-law (by-default) had surgery a couple days ago and is doing well and will be coming to live with us when she is discharged. Our house is closer to the hospital and will not leave her living alone while trying to recover, so it makes sense to have her here. I'm not antsy about it; she's awesome and I'd love to help her out, even if she would rather do it on her own. I just don't know what all I will be expected to do. Transport to therapy? Cook every night? Tie her to the couch to make sure she doesn't hurt herself trying to do too much? All are possibilities.

But other than that excitement, things are still okay here. The bell peppers are growing a total of two peppers, and I made a last-ditch effort at radishes in a pot, which look to be doing well. Most everything else has died though. Sometimes I wonder why I put in so much effort in the spring and early summer when I get almost no results, then I remember how much I enjoy the process and keep on daydreaming about next year.

I've also been thinking a bit about future career paths and am wondering how to start teaching myself graphic design. What I've researched makes me think I can do it if I can get past the technology challenge. The best idea seems to be trying it out as a hobby first, then attempting some freelance if I like it enough. If I don't, well, at least I've learned something new.

But I need to really get off and try to get some tasks accomplished today. I want to visit the hospital, get the transition lenses for Brian and go to the grocery store. Though staying here surrounded by sleeping dogs, Pandora and Pinterest also sounds like a good plan...

A few diabetic thoughts

Today is Friday, but it's the Sunday of my mid-week weekend. Tomorrow I'm back to work for Saturday and Sunday, so I'm trying to enjoy this day off with nothing to do. I did the grocery shopping and even made a big dinner yesterday, so there are leftovers in the fridge to get me through quite a few lunches and don't-feel-like-making-a-mess dinners.

I was making a cup of the new French Vanilla coffee I got yesterday and somehow started contemplating my current frustrations with my diabetes. Most of the people reading this blog are aware that I am Type 1 diabetic and I have been since I was 8 years old. Lately (meaning for the last couple of years, but this year in particular) I've been working to try and get back into checking my blood sugar regularly. I'm getting a lot better, especially using this phone app, Diabetes+, that lets me log everything from my glucose and insulin to activity and carb intake.

When I first started using it, I did log EVERYTHING.

It's becoming more of a habit for me, which is good, even though it's still only sporadic that I actually get to test four times a day like I should -- generally I only make it to two or three times.

But the more awareness I have of what my blood sugar is actually doing, the more frustrated I get about it, particularly the morning highs that have apparently been getting me for a lot longer than I've been aware.

Morning is usually the time I don't forget to test. It runs high at that time, so there are a lot of purple/high readings. It almost makes me start to hate purple. Almost.

For example, last night I went to bed with my glucose at 117, which is right in line with the 80-120 goal. All I did was take my Lantus (the long-acting insulin) and go to sleep. When I woke up today, my blood sugar was 177. Up sixty points after just sleeping?

It's not an isolated thing. The night before my glucose rose 38 points, and the night before it shot up by 80.

It's why most of the line graphs the app generates look like the world's worst roller coaster.

I am aware of the "dawn phenomena," where the liver will dump glucose into the blood during the night. Theories on why vary, but the one I remember is the body thinking that the blood sugar is dropping, so the liver dumps its store into the blood to bring it up. Regardless of why, it's a bitch to control.

Aside of rises in blood glucose beyond my own control, I'm also learning that I probably have less of an idea of how many carbs are in what I eat than I thought I did. This has led me to just take insulin for what I think is in something, plus a couple extra units depending on what that food did to me in the past. Some horrible offenders are pizza and coffee. The fat in pizza causes a delay in the processing of the carbs in it, resulting in a delayed spike in blood sugar. I don't know what it is about coffee, but even when I drink it with just half and half and Splenda, I have to correct for 25-30 carbs worth, even though I probably only ingested less than 10. Members of some of the diabetic Facebook groups I'm in have reported similar spikes, even when drinking coffee black, so my theory is that it's something to do with the caffeine content.

Yet I just keep coming back...

In general though, getting back to monitoring myself has been frustrating but will be worth it. I feel more in control when I KNOW what my glucose is doing, not when I just make a vague guess. It's costing some time and definitely some money to keep all the supplies in stock, but all necessary evil.

I have to commend my doctor, also. She gave me the kick in the rear that got me to actually try taking care of myself again. She hasn't ever really lectured or belittled me, either, but she works with me to try and figure out carb ratios and correction scales that will actually help keep things in check. Honestly, I'd forgotten about her suggestion to use a 1:8 ratio in the mornings and 1:10 the rest of the day until maybe a couple of weeks ago, and it really brought my lunchtime readings back down.

Yes, the number of readings per day is still under-par, but there's much fewer purple/high readings in the last couple of days, which makes me happy.

In case anyone thought diabetes was an easy thing to deal with, hopefully this will make you ask some questions and be interested to learn more about what's involved with controlling this disease. I'm free to take a crack at any questions you may have. :-)

Projects and thoughts of reinvention

Hello random readers. A bit of non-plant oriented thoughts to share today.

I realized how "meh" I have been feeling with life a couple weeks ago. An old friend will ask me how things are going and I don't have much more to say than "fine." It's not that things are going badly - things are much better now compared to last year - but I don't feel excited about anything. There's no passion or force guiding my thoughts or actions.

Reflecting on this, I tried to think of times when I was excited. Usually, they happened when I had some kind of short-term goal or project in mind. A book series I was determined to finish; an item I wanted to sew; a garden to plan; a drawing to complete; a push-up goal to reach. Any time I had one of these, there was something to think about during long work hours. The creative gears turned and I brainstormed ideas for variations and improvements to projects waiting on my return.

Lately the only way I've been able to get this kind of release is by picking and choosing recipes to try, but by the time I get home other tasks would take precedence or I'd simply be too tired to take action.

I'm tired of just floating through the day, waiting to go home so I can watch reruns of TV shows (because everything is in its summer sabbatical) or go to sleep. Besides being tired, I'm lacking a initiative to actually start a project. The last thing I tried to sew, a pajama pant project, I didn't get past the first leg. I have one book left in a trilogy I started last year, but finishing another series butted in to that plan, and I haven't been able to drag myself back to it (I did re-start the Harry Potter series though, go figure). The garden is at that watch-and-wait point, so there's not a lot of active work required unless I wanted to buy more plants, which is the last thing I need to do at the moment.

As a branch-off to this vein, I was thinking about a possible project: reinvention. Sort of, anyway. For a long time I have admired "nice" clothing and people who always look put-together. Despite this, I have always found myself defaulting to T-shirts and jeans, not bothering much with my hair and almost never wearing makeup.

Almost all the clothing tutorial pins I've collected are for skirts, though I almost never go out in skirts unless it's a job interview or a formal occasion. Like a lot of women around my age, I have an infatuation with 40s and 50s era women's fashions.Thrift store dresses are one of the easier items to repurpose, but I don't have a lot of reason to wear them now that almost everyone I know has graduated and there aren't any weddings scheduled to happen in the near future.

It's unfortunate that I feel I need a reason to look nice, but with a job that requires scrubs, a hobby that requires a gi and no energy afterward to do much more than sit or sleep, I just can't justify dressing in more than pajamas or a glorified version of them most of the time.

There's not really a point to this rambling. I just feel better writing it out for future reflection.

Audrey documents her newfound ruthlessness... sorta...

All right. It's been a while since we checked in on the plants (because that's really the only reason for you to check this blog, I'm sure).
When I last updated, it was to share that I had to start over as almost all of my precious plants had been eaten by furry or slimy demons. It was then that I lost my ability to really see rabbits and slugs as "just other creatures trying to survive." I'm striking back now.

I posted on Facebook about killing a particularly large slug with salt on the porch. It seemed to delight everyone who read it (several friends at aikido commented on it during class, calling me "killer" for a short while). Now I can't pour a salt ring around my plants, but I'd been saving egg shells for a few months since reading about them being good for putting calcium into soil and at the same time repelling slugs and snails. I smashed them in a big old ziploc and sprinkled it around my bell pepper sprouts, which I repotted last weekend.

No more nasty slug trails around MY peppers.

One of my four remaining plants had begun to wilt before the transplant and has not perked up since, so I'm prepared for it to be a loss.  But the other three are leafy and strong and I have high hopes for their future. I feel particularly protective over these plants because they are the survivors. I raised them from seeds and have been very attentive to them. Acer tried to snack on the one that is currently wilting away, and he got a firm talking-to and finger wag for his actions.

I've also mixed up a jug of rabbit repellent made from water, red pepper flakes, garlic and dish soap. The recipe suggested letting it sit in the sun for a couple days to let the flavors and smells saturate in the mix. When I opened the jug to pour it into a spray bottle, I caught a whiff of just how rank it was. I've been spraying it on bean vines, pumpkin sprouts and a sweet potato sprout that poked itself up but apparently attracts bunnies.

 This plant has grown a fair amount since this photo was taken. There are actually the beginnings of buds on it now.

Sweet Group Shot! Meet the new sweet banana pepper plant and the regrown sweet potato sprout.

I'm also trying a second round of radish seeds, but may have lost them as well. I did not get the spray on them before something ate about 75 percent of them. But I still have lots of seeds left and the warm season isn't going anywhere soon.

After I lost a lot of my plants last month, I decided to let plants grow larger before putting them in the yard. My two pumpkin vines are weathering being in the ground much better since I let them bulk up before moving them. I did purchase a six-pack of tomato sprouts for my Topsy Turvy stand and they are looking very happy in their spot in the middle of the yard - the best place for them to get the sun they need. I had to move it from a spot next to the fence when I caught a squirrel eyeballing it from the fence post.

I'm getting excited about the garden again, even though it's spread throughout the yard and kind of at a point now where all I have to do is make sure nothing is getting nibbled on and everyone stays watered. I don't foresee any more transplants, so it's really just waiting on the blossoms to appear. Here's to rank rabbit repellant and sharp shards of slug deterring eggshells all doing their jobs.

Quick and dirty check-in

Hi there. I know nobody is probably checking this blog for updates, but I realize I haven't posted in almost a month and wanted to do so. I don't have a lot of time, so this will be picture-free.

My Facebook friends are aware that not long after I put a slew of seeds and sprouts in my garden, they were devoured by fiends unknown. Most likely rabbits, but I'm suspecting certain bugs and squishy things outside also played a small part. "Devastating" is only slightly too strong a word. I cried a little. All that work, gone in just a few days. With it being so late in the season, I'd almost resigned myself to buying some plants at Home Depot to replace them, but decided to give the pumpkin seeds another shot. My rationale now is to get the sprouts to be big enough that a few nibbled leaves won't destroy everything. There are two of them pushing up on the porch now.

I haven't replanted the radishes and a few spinach sprouts seem to have survived. The shallots haven't been touched and -- the most relieving point for me -- I hadn't put the bell peppers in the ground yet. I still have four of them, currently sitting on the surface of the dirt in a large houseplant's pot that I left outside for some reason. It's on the porch and kind of high off the ground, so the only thing knocking them over is the strong wind from all the freaking rain we've been getting.

Seriously, more than two weeks almost straight of rain we've had. When did I move to the Pacific Northwest?

Anyway, the lack of sunlight also killed the sunflower sprout from the seed kit my mom gave me for Christmas. The zinnias, likewise, didn't survive the transplanting. Either I watered them too much in their bags or they were too shocked from the move to the pot. I just don't have luck with gifted plants it seems.

However, I was gifted some other seeds after furry demons ate my garden. A good friend in Dallas saw my post and sent me a whole set of Miracle-Gro seed pods. Tomatoes, peppers, lettuces, herbs, watermelons, a really nice assortment. It still feels too late in the year to be messing with seeds, but I have put one each of spinach, basil and green bean pods into some dirt to see how they do. The beans already have a sprout, and I put them in the dirt on Saturday(?). I will probably hold on to the rest until next year, when I can get them started ahead of time. Yay for pre-preparedness! (In case I didn't say it enough, Thank You, Korri!)

So, I've lowered the expectations of, but not quite given up on, my horticulture daydreams. If I ever find time with my new full-time schedule, I do intend on buying some established plants, but I'd really like to wait for the sun to come back. The rain is nice and oh-so-needed, don't get me wrong, but I can't keep things alive on moisture alone.

In other news, Brian and I have fallen off the push up challenge wagon. We are both working full-time now (horray!), but it quickly took a backseat to us figuring out how to schedule dinner when he gets home after 5 p.m. and I'm not there until almost 8:00 p.m. But with two full-time incomes, we managed to get me a new car last week! Now we are both mobile!

Ok, I lied. One picture. I'm squinting because it was one of those weird "overcast-but-bright" days.

 

Hopefully soon I can find time to update with more photos, but I didn't want the silence to unnerve anyone. I'm just busy with life at the moment. :-)

Into the ground we go

As my Facebook friends learned yesterday, I finally got some compost for my garden.

Brian convinced me not to buy a dozen more plants while we were at the store, and we hauled the two bags (plus another bag of potting mix) into the backyard. My shoulders were, and still kind of are, hurting from Sunday's push ups, but I managed to turn the existing dirt, dump in the bags of compost, and mix them in with a hoe. I was extremely pleased to find a really fat earthworm in the dirt as I mixed it up. As the dirt in the box came from a store, I had taken to pulling worms out of weed roots when I pulled them from the yard and throwing them into the box. Most of them were pitiful, skinny things, but the one I found yesterday was a hoss. Something in that dirt is doing the worms right.

However, in mixing the dirt I did realize just how shady my little garden is in the afternoon. I am questioning how happy my mostly-full-sun-wanting plant choices will be there, so I first moved my five remaining bell pepper seedlings to the brick wall side of the garden. Their roots are not yet showing through the peat pots, but I figured this would be a good opportunity to see whether they will thrive or die in the partial shade of the area before I commit to putting them in the dirt.

Don't mind us, we are just taking in the view.

I was all ready to start putting actual plants into the dirt when I realized I couldn't even list everything I had to plant yet. So... I went to my notebook to make a list and draw a plan.

Believe it or not, I do have a rather organized way of approaching projects.

Brian helped with the planning, suggesting putting the pumpkins on the side so the vines could grow over the edge of the garden instead of just blatantly taking up space in the middle.

All I managed to do yesterday was put the five shallots into the bottom left hand square foot, park my long pot of garlic to the right side of the box and sprinkle the questionable-vitality spinach seeds into the top left hand square foot. I bought the seeds last year, if I remember right, and never planted them. Because I never throw anything away, I still had them and figured "what's it going to hurt?" to throw them into a corner of dirt. If they grow, cool. If not, no loss.

The first thing I did this morning was put some pumpkin seeds in a bag to germinate. This should have been done weeks ago, but with the stalling on getting the garden ready, timing was hard to get right.

 When we grow up, we're going to make pies!

With the pumpkin seeds on the windowsill, I set out with the radish tape. I smoothed out a portion of dirt and dug two trenches with my hands and lay the radish seeds in them.

 

I also put a single pumpkin seed in the top right hand corner of the box. Kind of to see which grows faster or stronger: separately germinated or in-ground germinated.

 A brave seed goes where its brethren ventured not.

I marked its spot with a rock, then put some water on everything.

 Apparently the early morning sun is stronger than I thought. At least when photographed.

So thus far, I have five sprouted shallots, one packet of possibly expired spinach seeds, two strips of radish seed tape and a pumpkin seed in the garden. The bell peppers are still parked on a wall, deciding if they like the environment (if they end up not thriving, I intend to put them in pots with the potting mix I bought and placing them in a sunnier position in the yard).

In less-thrilling garden news, I also bought a crutch for one of the plants I've been taking care of since I found it on the porch last year.

A friend told me it has "bat wing" in its name, but I can't remember the rest and Google shows 

weird things that don't look like this.

I also was excited to find on Sunday the mystery bulb I threw into some dirt on a whim is sprouting!

 

Yet another mystery plant. Anyone who knows anything about bulbs is

welcome to weigh in on this.

People think gardening is a "girly" activity, or that it's boring because of the patience required or it's a hippie choice because of the green/homesteading trend going around now. For the most part, I'm not as interested in flowers as I am in utilitarian plants (though I obviously have a soft spot for some pretty blooms). I find excitement in the progression of plant growth, not just in the end results. And I don't do it to try and provide food for myself -- while it's not an idea I'm against, I am just not good enough to rely on it yet, though homesteading projects like gardening and chicken raising do appeal to me. I garden because I like to see what I can help to create by providing dirt, water and food to a little seed or small plant. I like to watch something small grow into something self-sufficient. I like tending to an ongoing project.

Pushing up!

Huzzah! Progress on the push up front!

Wednesday night Brian and I performed the exhaustion test that concludes the second week (or in our case, month) of the program.

I, who managed 11 measley push ups in the initial test on March 1, eeked out a whole 26 before the muscles in my arms started to burn so bad I couldn't push up any more. In mathy words, that's approximately a 136 percent increase in push up ability (according to a calculator I found online).

Brian performed 21 push ups in our initial test and managed to do 40 on Wednesday's exhaustion test. (That's a 90 percent increase in push ups performed.)

It's crazy. We have gone from this:

 Brian: already a .38, at least. Audrey: Wimpy wimpy, water pistol. (March 3)

To...:

 Huzzah!

Okay, I know that it may not be very impressive, but my arms are getting stronger from doing this. I just have to stay on top of it. When we started Week 2 of the program, I was doing okay. Then we managed to not move on again for a week. Re-doing the same day was torture, so we did Week 2 Day 1 maybe four times until I was competent again.

Even Brian started to have a hard time with the workouts in Week 2, but we are both continuing to move on at our slow little pace.

Kitchen territorialism

It's been a long time coming, but I finally admit to being territorial over my kitchen.

I reflect on this now as my roommate and his girlfriend prepare dinner tonight. I've jumped up multiple times to make sure they were using the right utensils, not using metal on my nonstick pots, not throwing recyclables in the garbage, etc. Mostly, I'm glad they got started while I was at work.

I cringe at the thought of other people using my utensils and ingredients, but I don't know why. My mother never worried about us kids in the kitchen. My party-hosting friend in college never cared if us dorm-dwellers got our cooking fix in her kitchen. But ever since I moved out on my own, I get kind of wiggy about people using my kitchen.

An accurate depiction, as little as I'd like to admit it.

To be fair, I didn't have an issue with my college roommate. Maybe because I felt the duplex we shared was more "hers" because she found it originally and asked me to room with her that year. We shared stocking and cleaning duties, so I guess I just didn't mind when she wanted to use it because it was quite literally half hers.

Living in my own apartment, however, I guess one would become possessive over things. The kitchen was full of food, tools, utensils and decor that I purchased. Some items, like the microwave, were gifts and loaners, but whenever someone would try to prepare something I had a habit of hovering and critiquing.

Brian learned this the hard way. When we started living together, I would ask him to help me make dinner sometimes, but I always had a problem with how he did things, or I'd get annoyed that he didn't know where basic things, like towels or cutting boards, were stored. I guess I can't really blame him for leaving the food prep to me now.

Maybe it's because I've lived with people inactive in the kitchen for so long now that I became territorial because I feel I'm the only one who uses it. I know where everything is, how much of each ingredient remains, what needs replacing soon, what substitutes I can create for different ingredients, and I think I resent having to tell other people. Part of me thinks they should know, but the other part knows why they don't.

Anyway, dinner is being served. I am doing my best to appreciate not having to prepare it tonight and not think about going in to figure out what's misplaced or depleted or improperly used or cleaned...

Reflecting on my 20s thus far

Not long ago I read this Buzzfeed article titled "17 Things Twentysomethings Need to Chill Out About." If you've read any number of posts in this blog not related to my plants, you know that the last couple of years I have struggled in the job realm. Those difficulties and the secondary ones that stem from joblessness and job searching and wondering what in the heck I want to do with my life made this listicle hit really close to home. I wanted to reflect on some items in the list today.

1. You didn’t study the right thing at university.

Is it bad that I was wondering if I was on the right path by my sophomore year of college? I remember starting my very first newswriting class and having a hell of a time getting interested in it. I struggled with the vague directions and made-up news assignments. But by Newswriting II, I kind of enjoyed it. The class required us to pick a campus beat and find stories from it to turn in. This made it interesting, as I chose the College of Fine Arts (where my next choice of major probably would have fallen, had I decided to change).

I think now about returning to school to start over, but I'm not sure what to study. Design and hospitality cross my mind a lot, but I fear getting burnt out in these industries as easily as I did the reporting one. 

2. Your uni[versity] experience wasn’t as fun as everyone else’s.

I do regret not taking some of the chances I was offered in college. Traveling, studying random subjects, getting involved with different groups, even going to more parties. I was actually to a happy point of being able to stay up late and hold my liquor fairly well before I graduated. Two months into the working world and my habit of staying up past midnight every night was gone. I drink far less now, so my tolerance is also significantly lower. It's all to be expected, I'm aware, but I do miss being the age where it was expected to make terrible decisions (and share the resulting stories).

3. You have absolutely no idea what you want to do with your life. and 4. You don't have your dream job.

This is a topic I've blogged about before. I am 26. I was a reporter in the "real world" for about two and a half years (maybe a little longer if you count my internship), and the impression of experiences were not always enjoyable. I did like parts of it, and I got to meet a lot of really awesome people and learn really cool stuff about a whole variety of topics, but the eternal stress of deadlines apparently isn't the way I work. Yes I need a deadline to really get going, but maybe I was just too young to discipline myself into meeting them all.

Then again, maybe I was too young for the professional world in general. Looking back, I can see all the mistakes I made. If I went back to it, I might be able to do better. But for now, I'm still washing out the bitter taste the reporting industry has left in my mouth.

It's a very humbling experience, however, to know that you're qualified to work in an office or professional environment, earning a very livable wage and holding nice vacation and health benefits, but sending all of your job applications to gas stations and retail and customer service positions. I don't know how many coworkers I've come across in my last few jobs who were surprised when I told them I'd been to (and graduated from) college. "What are you doing working here?" they ask.

The truth is it's a combination of fear and desperation. I'm afraid to get back into a professional job again because what if I fail at it like I did the last time? What if I get fired just a few months in and have to go back to looking for another job? It's overwhelming. So I take low-pay, low-hours, entry-level jobs when I can get them just so I have some money coming in and do not have a long employment gap in my resume.

The jobs are easy. They have low expectations. I don't bring the stress of them home with me in the evening. Once that drawer is pulled and the money is counted and till is balanced, I go home and don't worry about it anymore. As some kind of professional, the stress follows you well beyond your eight hours per day. Your back is tight from sitting all day and worrying if what you turned in will be good enough, if your supervisor has some hidden agenda against you, if you may be walking a razors-edge line and not even know it.

But I know this isn't the kind of work I want to do for the rest of my life. Yes, I want something more. I just don't know what it is specifically yet.

8. You’re not able to afford to buy your own place.

I've actually been quite lucky in this area. From the time I started my first reporting job until now, I have managed to keep up with rent, even while job hunting. A very strange turn of events led me to living in a house as I am now, which is much preferable to having been forced to move back home (number 5 on the original list). However, I have felt stuck in Central Texas since about the second month of living here in 2011. I find myself dreaming most days of moving back to the eastern part of the state, under the pine trees, but the whole not having a great job and trying to help the fiancee settle the estate means we could be here a while.

But why shouldn't we? This house is paid for. We would only have to pay property taxes on it once per year. It's kind of hard to maintain (having never tried to keep more than a one bedroom apartment moderately clean before), but we have a roommate for now paying rent, a small yard for my plants and both of us are working. Neither are great jobs or hours or pay, but there is income. Moving would mean finding new jobs, new places to live, etc. I honestly think I'm okay staying here for a little while while we try to save our money back up.

12. You feel like your time is running out.

I've had an itch to travel the country or even to another part of the world for years now. I was actually planning to go somewhere in 2013, as I'd worked over a year at the paper I was at and would have actual vacation time to use. Then my position was cut, and I had to start a new job and try to rebuild vacation time from scratch there.

Obviously the time and money situations haven't improved. I'm still dying to visit other states and cities and even countries. I feel like the older I get the harder it will become to do these things (especially if I don't get in good with some company). Brian and I took the Amtrak to Fort Worth last weekend and picked up several brochures and a magazine of the routes the train takes. I'm enamored with the routes that go to Nashville and New Orleans and Memphis. I want to traverse other cities, try new foods, listen to local music and just escape the annoyances of my life for a little while.

As it becomes less likely looking that I can really travel abroad, I shift my focus. I've wanted to go to Louisiana for months now. It's just a state over. I've actually visited Shreveport before, but I want to visit the French Quarter. Try a bakery, visit a jazz club, take a ghost tour. Be a freaking tourist, you know? I guess someday, but damn I wish it was sooner.

17. You’re getting old.

I know for a fact I'm not the only "twentysomething" worried about this. I found my first gray hair a week before my 23rd birthday, and it's far from the only one there now. My forehead and corners of my eyes are already showing signs of where the wrinkles will be.

These combined with the item discussed above really make me feel like time has gotten away from me in this decade of my life. But I look at the other people I know in my life, the people who have survived their twenties and still seem happy, and I have hope.

Some of them struggled working multiple part-time jobs well into their 40s before they found a well-paying full-time position (regardless of whether they enjoy it or not) and make time for activities they enjoy outside of work hours. Some branched out to do their own thing a few years before turning 30 and now travel and do everything they wanted to and seem thrilled with how things are going (but no one really broadcasts all their insecurities).

On the flipside, there are a few items on the list I seem to have conquered. I have not yet had to move back home (#5), I'm not a flippant spender (#6. You're rubbish with your finances) and I am a decent cook (#7. You're a terrible cook). I am engaged (#10. Everyone around you is getting hitched), though planning a wedding has taken a backseat to everything else going on. I've dated around and know the relationships that ended did so for a reason (#11. You're hung up on someone). I know that my friends are struggling with the same assortment of things I am (#13. You're not as cool as your friends) and the changes in my body seem to be for the positive (#15. Your body is changing).

I guess I'm saying I know that there is still time to grow and improve myself when the first digit of my age is no longer a 2. I'm just hoping that everything I want to accomplish is still doable by then.

Some pretty plants join the party

I bought more plants last week.

Yes, yes. I left work Thursday night. Brian was hanging out with a friend, so I went to Walmart to look at what they had.

Things were bought. Things were not regretted.

ANYWAY! I put a lot of my new plants into pots Monday. The herb tower is now a thing and I have two new flowers to join my old daisy (which also got a new, roomier, better-soil home).

I started by bringing everyone outside and test-driving a couple pots.

First I wanted to work on the herb tower. I only bought three live herbs: lavender, sweet mint and rosemary. There is also a packet of chives seeds that I haven't yet attempted to do anything with.

You may have noticed the pots full of bottle caps in some of my other photos. My mom alwasy taught me to add rocks to the bottom of a pot for drainage for plants. Living in apartments the last few years, rocks weren't always easy to find. But I drank a lot of sodas.

Exhibit A.

I started saving caps from soda, shampoo, milk, juice and coffee creamer bottles, as well as whole empty energy shot and liquid water enhancer bottles. They are a good, lightweight option to add a drainage element for container plants when rocks aren't easy to come by. I guess it's also kind of a "green" option, but that wasn't my thought process at the time.

Anyway, I put a layer of the plastic bottles at the bottom of a large terra cotta pot. I filled it with the potting soil I also bought at Walmart (mixed with the less-good soil from old plants), then checked to see where a smaller clay pot would fit on top of it.

It was originally going to be centered.

Then I actually read the instructions on the lavender and mint peat pots. They said to remove the bottoms of the pot and leave the pieces in the hole that the plant was going into. I used a pocket knife to carefully rip off the bottom of the pots.

 After I got them into the edge of the large pot, I decided that placing the second pot, where the rosemary would go, a little off-center would look better and leave some more room in the bottom. So that's what happened.

View from above.

 I put the rosemary, which didn't come in a peat pot, into the top and admired the work. I think it came out looking pretty sweet.

Like I said, I also bought some chives seeds, and I'm trying to figure out if I want to put them in the spaces of the herb tower seen here, or give them a separate place to call home.

But with the herbs done, I moved on to the two flowers I bought.

I'm not usually an ornamental-plant type of person, but these two had really pretty purple flowers and one was kind of a trailing type of flower that was also labeled to be heat tolerant. It was an easy sell.

The last hanging pot I had was buried in the garage, but it had a built-in drainage tray, so I didn't have to use more bottle caps. :-)

When I pulled the plant out of its plastic pot, it looked like this:

I know a lot of store-bought plants are cramped in their pots, but I always feel kind of bad when I see how crowded they get. The roots were too tight together to really pull apart any (I tried), so I just had to make sure it had room to spread out in the new pot.

I'm so enamored with these kinds of plants.

Next came the delphinium. These were on display outside the garden center and I literally spent a few seconds lusting after the blooms the way most girls would lust after shoes. Just look at the blue-on-purple color scheme going on here.

It reminds me of those galaxy pictures you see online.

I didn't take photos of the repotting of this one. I'm sure you get the idea by now. Plus I was listening to a YouTube playlist on my phone and you may know how the music stops if you try to do anything else, like take a picture.

 Since I was on such a roll, I also brought out the old sweet potato vine (I'm thinking it's dead, but not entirely sure) and my gerbera daisy to join the fun.

Gerbera daisies are supposed to be one-year plants, but I've had mine for three now. I bring it in in the winter, where its green leaves whither and die off, but new green sprouts come up. It was sending up some new greenery when I realized how slowly it was growing. It has been in the same pot for a while now, so I moved it to a larger home and replaced the old, tired soil with some fresh stuff.

It kind of looks like size overkill, but trust me, this daisy can get pretty big.

The rest of my plants are still doing well. The garlic got some fertilizer and the pepper sprouts, celery and mystery bulb get water regularly. Once the roots start showing at the bottom of the pots for the pepper sprouts, I'll move them to the garden bed, where I hope to see them flourish. The final step I need to finish before moving anything to the ground is adding some compost to that soil. I will also need to get the radish and pumpkin seeds started, and buy a banana pepper plant for Brian. I'm still contemplating tomato plants, but that can wait, as they won't be starting from seed.

Also! Speaking of mystery plants (the bulb hasn't changed much on the surface) the mystery sprout I put in the corner of the garlic pot poked above ground!

What ARE you???

I hope everyone else's spring projects are shaping up, if you have any. And in case anyone has any misinformed thoughts that gardening or repotting are clean activities, I'll leave you with this reminder that it's easy to take photos of only the good-looking angle and results

Here's to a happy, green spring for everyone. May you be as happy this season as Acer was laying in and nibbling on the grass while I was working.