Cutting Back The Roses

Cutting back the roses that overgrew my patio in the past decade gave me satisfaction yesterday, but also put thorns in my hands—a metaphor for life. Today I have more roses to trim, another metaphor. Yesterday was a very good day, in the morning Old House Society picked up the last of my lawn furniture donation, including the two nine-foot metal arbor gates that I brought from Mother’s house five years ago to make her more comfortable living in my home. The arbor gates were fairly impressive, but not to my personal taste, and now there is nothing in my yard to compete with my lovely landscaping, my raised flower beds, butterfly garden, fruit trees, etc. Each day I try to work outside to max

Letting Go...

It is a bright, hot summer day that the second broods of wrens fledging on my patio must brave. Fifteen-year-old Margaret Cat caught and ate an early one that dropped out of its nest box a few days ago. To my knowledge that is her first meal of wild game, and now I know that if she ever got lost in the wild she would have some sort of chance of surviving. Right now she is crouched under large hosta leaves next to the patio, ready with just the glowing green eyes of her face showing, neglecting the full bowl of kitty kibbles inside. I kept her in yesterday which caused her to sulk, so today I let her out into nature. Margaret Cat was so excited about the wren fledging that she even asked

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