Life these days...
June 5, 2023, 6:15 pm
Life these days is kind of like the woodpile above when you come up our driveway. It shouldn’t be there, but it is. A big old maple tree fell with a thunderous crack last winter and thankfully landed on open land in the middle of the night. When Mr. H spotted it the following day, you would have thought the wood fairy selected that tree, especially for him. He was excited by all the possibilities the fallen tree presented.
Our charismatic tree man, “Swifty,” was all smiles when Mr. H explained his plan while I looked on and desperately hoped he would blow out the flame of this crazy idea. Instead, he said, “I think you need a hydraulic wood splitter.” I looked at Swifty in horror. I had enough problems with Mr. H’s chainsaw alongside the barn. “It will help the job go faster, allowing you to move the wood pile out of the way.” I nodded; maybe it was a good idea. Mr. H shook his head and said, “Oh no, I am fine; I look forward to doing this. I plan to split all the wood myself; it will be a fun summer project.” I looked to Swifty, who looked at me as if to say, “‘I tried.”
I have moved on and now accept it as a symbol of home when I come up the drive. It might be there for a while because as I type, Mr. H is nursing a sore wrist in a bowl of ice. He thinks it might be a touch of arthritis. I know exactly what it is.
I am only thinking about all this because a group of women from a garden club I recently joined are coming for a photography workshop on Wednesday morning. I told my friend Joe that I might have to pass out the smelling salts when they have a look at our welcome wood pile. That said, I joined this group of clever women because they are the sort who would understand. We gardeners, amateur and seasoned, enjoy nature in all forms, even if it is a woodpile habitat for critters over the summer. I am ok with it all as long as it does not involve snakes.
A few weeks ago, we had some work done in our basement that required our exterior bulkhead doors to be open so the workmen could get in and out quickly. A few days later, I went to the basement to top off Tani’s food and was greeted by a large garden snake curled up on top of the food bucket, looking at me as if to say, “May I help you?” We looked at each other briefly while I thought about my next move. It wasn’t my first encounter with a snake in our basement. The first time was a smaller snake resting on top of a Santa Christmas decoration last winter. Santa and the snake were peeking out from a large storage bag. I asked my son, Connor, and Mr. H for a solution. Mr. H grabbed a towel. Connor and I both looked at him and asked, “What will you do with that?” He planned to throw it over the snake and scoop it up. I had visions of a snake slipping from the towel onto me. Connor said, “I got this.” and pulled up the sides of the bag, sealing the snake within, and promptly went outside and spilled the contents of the bag and the snake onto the lawn. The snake slithered off, and I told Connor he could dispose of the Christmas decorations. I never needed to see them again.
Back to the garden snake on the food bucket. It was just Mr. H and me that day, so he grabbed a towel and nearly made it to the top of the steps to release the snake outdoors, and guess what. It slipped out of the towel, landed on the bulkhead's edge, and turned around to return to the house. I closed the basement door just in time. I spent the next two days trying to coerce the snake out of the bulkhead with a butterfly net. Eventually, it left on its own accord and, as far as I know, is happily ensconced in the garden. I am hoping it is not the wood pile!
I plan to tuck a few plants into the garden tomorrow, bake blueberry muffins and a lemon slice cake, and prepare my notes for the workshop. I love having guests around, even when the garden is in one stage of wildness or another. ;)
And that’s life at Tahilla Farm these days, the joys of country living.
Thank you for reading along!
Jeanne :))
#beginagainwriting5
The garden today…
