Mums

Sometimes I can be so dense. Last fall, I learned that all of the mums that are purchased for autumn decorating can be planted. They are perennials. Who knew?! Not I that's who.

So with no further thought whatsoever, the gorgeous buttercream mum was planted. It was full and lush and bloomed way into November.

I was thrilled to see it sprout up this spring and thrilled again to see small buds form. It was watered and fertilized, but did I think to check out the web for any other directions? That would be a nooooooo...

If I had, I would have discovered that once the plant reached ten inches in height, I should have been pinching back those buds. Then I would have had a beautiful full mum, lower to the ground and nearly as lush as it was last fall. (Source)

Hope that I get another chance with this former beauty. Long and leggy just doesn't become a mum.

Blue Sea and Goldenrod

Gosh I just love blue and yellow combinations...ever since visiting dear old friends of my grandparents' who lived on a farm overlooking Magaguadavic Lake in New Brunswick. The lady of the house had just painted her kitchen in a yellow and blue combination and I fell in love with that little farm kitchen. As I recall, the walls were soft buttery yellow, the table and chairs a sky blue and her cabinets were painted white. Whatever! It all came together in a pleasing way.

I have had a blue kitchen myself. It was decided for me by some terribly cheesy wallboard that might have been more appropriate for a bathroom. Later, when I was able to make some changes, I wound up with white walls, a blueberry vine stenciled border, a buttery yellow floor (also stenciled) and honey gold cabinets and a honey gold open stairway in the kitchen. Gosh I loved that house.

Fast forward to today. I have wallpaper with a beige background and mostly green and red colors. I would say that the green predominates. It'll be with me for a while yet, but I do have a new wall in the kitchen now that it is open to the dining area and the new addition. I must decide on a color as I am not keeping the natural wood. I have been leaning toward the yellow in the photo from Pella on 9/05/2007.

Choices, choices, so many choices.

(Formatting issues today...;> Big deal! LOL!)

Fluttering

Yes, I'm a Flybaby, too. It's a dead giveaway when posting a picture of one's sink!

Flylady Marla Cilley has been a big part of my life for several years. Things haven't always gone smoothly, but I must give credit where credit is due. She has taught me so much about myself and my perfectionism. Just check out Flylady.com for tips and techniques that will help you create a beautiful home.

Actually, I don't often refer to myself as a "Flybaby" preferring to call myself a "flutterer" or even a "flubber."

Homebody

It pains me to confess it, but I am a homebody. Love to be home. No place I'd rather be. It pains me to say it because if I could change something about myself, that's what I'd change.

My three-pronged attack yesterday on procrastination worked pretty well. I did apply for the job. I did sort through a stack of mail that had been building for a few weeks. I did find an overdue bill. I paid it and the current one, too. Online. The internet is great.

The third item came in the form of a phonecall from one of my nieces. She's a confirmed homebody, too, so when she had to travel some distance for a doctor's appointment, she called me. She needed a comfort companion. Despite my wanting to remain home, I agreed to go. I've needed comfort companions, too. And I'm glad that I did. I had fun.

I wandered through an antique market while I waited. I had a conversation with a very nice man from New Jersey who is impressed with Maine's antique prices and had managed to purchase a vintage toy...a truck...for what he considered a song. He said he'd been looking for it for a long time. That made me happy enough for him that I didn't have to purchase the vintage tablecloth that I was holding. It wasn't that special. I was only buying it to calm my nerves. ;>

My niece has a quick, quirky sense of humor. On the way home as we passed a poor hitchhiker who looked all done in from a long day's work, she said, "Yeah, right, like I'd pick you up, pal." I offered that he obviously had a job since he was carrying a small cooler. She said, "With a head in it!"

The day ended, as it always does if I have any say, with a frozen yogurt at the farmstand that looks down on our little town. The nearly full moon was gossamer...so pale that it can not be seen in the photo I took. Such a shame.

Procrastination

One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today. ~Dale Carnegie

Since it's been established that eclectism is my bag, it should come as no surprise that I also mix metaphors with abandon. My neighbor's maple tree is at peak color and I have certainly been enjoying its magical-ness. ;> (Check September 1's post for a comparison.)

Today, I am planning to do three things that I have put off for too long. I know one of those things is applying for a job that would be perfect for me, but is a second-shift position, which makes it more of a challenge than I would like. Nevertheless, I'm going to apply. There's no harm in that. The other two I haven't even figured out yet, but I will and I'll tell more about them next time.

Decorating Inspiration

Before


Proving that it is possible for me to be inspired, especially with tons of help from Melissa at the Inspired Room (see link under "favorite blogs") and Linda of Restyled Home (note especially Linda's 9/20 post), I am trying my hand at autumn decorating using both gals' good tips.


After

I do think I need a different mum...a bushy, fuller one.

Tribute to the First Day of Autumn

Fear

Women

Women have no wilderness in them,
They are provident instead,
Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts
To eat dusty bread.

They do not see cattle cropping red winter grass,
They do not hear
Snow water going down under culverts
Shallow and clear.

They wait, when they should turn to journeys,
They stiffen, when they should bend.
They use against themselves that benevolence
To which no man is friend.

They cannot think of so many crops to a field
Or of clean wood cleft by an axe.
Their love is an eager meaninglessness
Too tense, or too lax.

They hear in every whisper that speaks to them
A shout and a cry.
As like as not, when they take life over their door-sills
They should let it go by.

~Louise Bogan

This poem means a lot to timid old me. Fear sometimes grabs me by the throat, shakes me all around, and leaves me hearing shouts and cries in whispers.