Rhododendron Path

This was part of my commute home from the train station today. I missed a bus by 30 seconds. But got over it pretty quickly...

When I start kvetching about how much I loathe Boston winters next February, please remind me of how much I love Boston springs.

Hulking Monster

There's a hulking monster in the spare bedroom. It keeps growing bigger and bigger, trying to engulf the bed.


I was grateful to flee from it today, and happily skipped to the train station to go to work.


I showed a picture to a coworker, who groaned. "I have one of those at home too. I hate it."


I felt a little better. She doesn't have kids. I never had monsters like this before the kids came along.

Laundry that needs to be folded. It's menacing.

How did it get to be so bad?


I ask myself this, frequently. I wondered if it was because:

• I took the girls to he doctor Monday afternoon instead of getting stuff done
• We went shoe shopping on Wednesday morning
• HeyMama and I made bread on Wednesday afternoon
• I went out Wednesday night with a friend for drinks
• I did the laundry in bursts whenever I was home instead of spacing it out evenly through the week
• All of the above

I discussed this with my Wednesday night drinking buddy, a mom of three down the street. It's amazing how trying to fit one extra thing into your week can totally throw everything out of whack. Like laundry. I managed to get it all clean, but folding it was just asking too much. And there are always random little things inserting themselves into the week. Shopping for a birthday. Shopping for Summer shoes. You'd think by now that I would have figured it out by now. You'd think wrong.


Oh well. The girls are getting a chance to wear through the last clean clothes in their closet, and I can see if those rarely-worn clothes still fit or not. So I can wash them and let them sit on the bed again.


Do you have any monsters hulking in your house?

Helen's Legacy. And a Demolition Crew.

We've lived in our condo for about 5 years. It was an old home that was gutted, and with a large addition in the back, turned into 2 large condos. We each have 2 levels of renovated space that doesn't feel like the typical Boston housing stock. In other words, it's updated and not grimy. We have a front and back yard. We have the Arboretum across the street and wetlands behind us. We thought we'd hit the jackpot. We were thrilled to find the place, and put down an offer on the spot. It was accepted about 12 hours later. 


We found ourselves to be neighbors with families that had lived in the area for generations. On one side of the house was Helen, the octogenarian matriarch of a family that included 9 children and countless grandchildren. She lived in a large house with 2 of her adult sons. The house was typical Boston housing stock, slightly grimy, with multiple family projects added to the house and yard over the decades. Helen was still wiry, spry and strong-willed, a force to be reckoned with. She had been a nurse, in addition to raising 9 kids. There was no doubt about who was in control next door.


But the projects that they had added to the house were a bit interesting. Decades before, Helen wanted a pool for her children. They couldn't afford to pay someone to put one in for them. So they did it themselves. They raised the level of their yard, from a steeply sloped hill to a large level expanse adequate for a pool with a diving board and a slide. They built a large... well... I'm not sure what to call the structure. It has a roof and screened in sides. It overhangs the city's wetlands behind it. I'm pretty sure it's not legal. It's also ugly. But it provided shade and a place to store pool toys. 


When we first moved in, Helen was still living in the house, and loved to see the family gathered for swimming and grilling. There were plenty of patio tables, chairs, and a large awning coming off the back of the house. But Helen was starting to become forgetful, and over the next few years we witnessed her rapid decline. Helen was moved into a nursing home, and the pool parties stopped. 


The property was "adorned" by quite a collection of stuff. Ok, so it was like having the Beverly Hillbillies next door. The yard was built up with construction fill. They built the wall out of old sidewalk remnants, and filled in with the contents of dump trucks that had been rumbling by. There were plenty of teen-aged sons at home, so they were put to work creating the back yard. They were good at repurposing things. Helen didn't like to throw stuff away. This is useful when you're raising 9 children. This is not attractive when your property overlooks the collection. As Helen started to lose her memory, a few of her daughters would secretly come in and throw stuff out. The stuff that made it to the curb was amazing. Not attractive, but amazing. 


We planted ivy to try to cover the wall. We planted a tall yew hedge to separate our kitchen windows from their "woodpile". We prayed with every windstorm that the large building in the back would miraculously get blown down. We've been praying a long time.


We were shocked this morning when a dumpster container arrived next door. A demolition crew arrived with it. They went back to the structure. Then they started taking it down. Quite rapidly, actually. The girls were amazed, and watched, entranced, from the back deck. It really was amazing to see them disassemble the monstrosity. 


Alice, the 7th of the 9 children, came over to tell us what was going on. We knew that Helen had died a year or 2 ago. Chris, one of the sons, had started doing some work on the property, and it was slowly (very slowly) starting to lose some of its Beverly Hillbillies appearance. We approved. I took out lemonade in the summer to show our appreciation. Alice explained this morning that everyone in the family who could afford a house already had one, and this one was going to be sold. (I didn't ask about the 2 random grown sons and a grandson and his girlfriend who lived there...) They would spend the summer getting the house cleaned out and in sellable condition. They would open the pool one last season to get the family together on the weekends. 


This is amazing news. I know that Helen would be spitting mad. As Alice explained, the "wetlands" behind the house used to be a city dump. The additions to the yard were "improvements", especially in Helen's eyes. She didn't see that the structure was illegal and constructed out of random building remnants. She only saw that, despite working 50-60 hours a week and raising 9 children, they had managed to build a yard, a pool, and a cabana on a shoestring. It was a testament to their hard work and ingenuity. Alice told me that under the floor of the structure, they found an old porcelain bath tub. With a dead raccoon in it. Somehow, it seems appropriate. 

The structure, as the demo begins...

Men at work.

Our view of the work.

HeyMama supervising.

HeyMama and MeToo supervising.

The roof is coming off.

The roof is gone.

The frame is gone.

It's all gone.

Our view of their patio from our deck.

Our view of their patio from our patio. Thank you yew bushes.

Our view of the structure from our patio. Thank you demo crew.

Our attempts to cover the sidewalk wall. 

The giant expanse of wall that the ivy can't seem to conquer. That's a lot of sidewalk chunks!

Our view of the wall from our patio.

The woodpile. With random tires and crap. This is actually a cleaned-up version...

Our new garden and new grass that BestestHusband is working on. We prefer to look at this.  

Alice watched the work through the back windows. She said she liked watching the view of the trees reappear as the structure was dismantled. "It's like it's come full circle", she said. Alice salvaged a few plants from a planter that was part of the structure, and gave them to us: "Autumn Joy Sedum". I want to keep them. Alice said that Helen loved them, and they were one of the few plants that she could actually grow. I have few but fond memories of the spunky old lady next door. She fretted that I would slip on the ice when I walked to work, pregnant with MeToo. Her ability to remember new things was quickly leaving her, so the memory of losing one of her pregnancies was strong whenever she saw me. But even in her frailness, she exuded energy. And joy. I'm be honored to have her "Autumn Joy". I promise to think of her when they bloom.

My Little Leper

Poor kiddo, she looks like a leper. The amoxicillin rash has spread even more. The skin-to-rash ratio is about 1:1 now. The benadryl's not doing much. Neither is the oatmeal bath.

Is oatmeal bad for the plumbing?

The doctor says to wait it out. Waiting sucks. Poor kid...

Revenge of the Amoxicillin

So I earned myself the Worst Mother of the Year Award this weekend by allowing HeyMama to get a sunburn on her shoulders. Saturday morning we went down the street to our friends' yard sale. I didn't expect we'd be there long. But we were. Without sunscreen.


So HeyMama had bright red shoulders this morning. I slathered her in aloe. The redness spread down her arms. Then little bumps appeared. I called the doctor's office. By the time the nurse called back, the bumps had spread to her legs. The nurse scheduled us for an appointment in the evening. By the time we got there, the bumps were on her chest and back. They were spreading to her face.


The verdict? Allergic reaction to amoxicillin.


Poor HeyMama. She's red and swollen all over now. And itchy. And sad.


At bedtime, we all said special prayers for her little red bumps. Even MeToo asked God to make her feel better.


I hope the Benadryl works. At least we know she'll get a good night's sleep...

Stewardship Sunday: Mothers Day Edition

Happy Mother's Day! And Happy Sunday!

It's that day where I look back at the gifts I was given during the past week. There was one I really wanted to return:  strep throat. The girls and I both had it. I do have to say that amoxicillin and penicillin are great gifts. As is a large urban healthcare practice that can schedule 3 people to be seen, last-minute, with almost-back-to-back appointments. With a pharmacy downstairs. It truly is a great gift. 

I spent most of the week grumbling about my fate. The girls did not seem to feel as bad as I did, and certainly didn't think they needed to sleep as much as I did. Thursday, I took the day off from work and sent the girls to preschool. I caught up on sleep and housework. The week got a little better. Pastor was a last-minute late-night houseguest. Life felt a little more normal. (Don't ask me why Pastor dropping by made me feel more normal, but it did. It really isn't a normal thing at all. Whatever.) I had a PT eval for my gimpy back on Friday. BestestHusband started to put in the garden. And ran out of space. So ordered more soil to be delivered to make it bigger. And tried to move a giant rock. (The rock deserves its own blog post.) HeyMama and I made bread. She made her own loaf, and it turned out quite well! Preschool had a Mother's Day Tea for all of the moms. It was lovely. And then the weekend came along, and we were all feeling a little better, and the weather is fantastic. BestestHusband took the dogs for a vet checkup and ran errands yesterday, and the girls and I spent the morning hanging out at a friend's yardsale down the street. And scored a large swimming pool to use as our new sandbox!!! BestestHusband ran more errands with the girls, and I sorted through too-small and too-big clothes in the basement to piece together a Spring/Summer wardrobe for the girls. And today we put aside the ToDo list and had a lovely Mother's Day. 

We avoided the chaos of Lilac Sunday and had a picnic on the quiet side of the Arboretum with great friends (and our goddaughter!) We sorted through baby clothes to find a Spring/Summer wardrobe for our chubby-thighed little darling of a goddaughter. We were reminded of how much we'll miss them when they move in a few months. (Sigh.) BestestHusband organized the whole thing. I just dug out the picnic quilts. Did I mention that the weather was perfect?

My Mother's Day gifts. 

Ok, so let's talk about what I did with my gifts this week.

Patience:  Total fail all around. The next time the girls and I both get sick at the same time, we need to find someone else to take care of them. It is necessary to have more patience than a 2 yr old to take care of a 2 yr old. And I did not. 

M&Ms:  We have peanut M&Ms in the house. Bad stuff. My self control was as weak as my patience.

Money:  I'm shopping for summer shoes for all of us right now. It's necessary, but painful. I picked up some of the clothes I took to the seamstress to get altered. Not cheap, but I have 2 more garments in my closet that I WANT to wear. I'm trying to ignore the price tag on BestestHusband's trip to BJ's yesterday. It was record setting. But not my fault.

Food waste:  I did relatively well, because I didn't want to cook, and therefore didn't make too many leftovers or try ambitious recipes. We did throw out 2 full giant pitas. The mold was white. I missed it until the last minute. But before eating them, thankfully...

This week, I need to amp up the patience and fun to try to balance out the misery of the past week. The process of looking for life's small joys never ends, and I'm ready to step up to the plate for another week.

HeyMama made the little loaf in the middle!

Meet My Mum

I'd like you to meet my Mum. She's a lovely lady. This is her 34th Mother's Day. 


And to celebrate, I'd like to share some fun facts about her from my childhood.

• Though usually disguised as a well-mannered and reserved Pastor's wife, she has a wicked silly streak.
• Growing up, she was the prettiest mom in our church. And we went to a big church. 
• She taught me to chair-dance at the dinner table, bopping my head around while staying in my seat.
• Earlier in my life, she showed me how to live a life of volunteering, rarely saying "No" to anything.
• Later in my life, she showed me that knowing how to say "No" is just as important as knowing how to say "Yes".
• She showed me how to take strong feelings and speak them in gentle words. 
• She showed me how to wear bold colors. And tasteful makeup.
• She taught me about Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning, the wonder seasoning that works wonders.
• She taught me to make pie. I think I was 4...
• She showed me that even if you don't like being the center of attention, sometimes you just suck it up and speak in public. 
• She showed me the importance of prayer. And Faith. And Hope. And Grace.
• She told me that emotions are just emotions. We can't control or change them. But actions, that's what we can control and change.
• She showed me that patience is a virtue. (Unfortunately, she never taught me the secret to being patient...)
• She showed me what living in a clean and organized house was like. (Never mind that I've forgotten...)
• She showed me that making something can be the best part about having something. (BestestHusband, the craft supplies in the spare bedroom are all her fault...)
• She told me that holding myself to my own values and goals was far better than living up to someone else's. Besides, my goals were harder anyway.
• She gave me space to let my imagination wander. 
• She gave me time to learn to entertain myself. 
• She taught me to play car games, looking for letters in highway signs and funny billboards. We went on a lot of car trips. 
• She taught me to sing at any time. Make up a song, if needed.
• She encouraged my interests. 
• She told me that "sometimes, you just need a good cry."
• She gave lots of hugs. 
• She demonstrated what joy looks like.

Nowadays, she lives a time zone away. A long flight + a long drive, or a long flight + a long layover + a short flight away. It's much much too far. And I miss her.


Happy Mother's Day, Mum!