In which we bid good-bye to 26 year old Liam, and Elisabeth gets a silly photo with one of her favorite authors.

Every year there is one delicious month where Liam and I are the same age. This month has started. Happy birthday, Liam! Goodbye 26 year old Liam! We celebrated his birthday in his favorite manner, which is to say we did not celebrate much at all. Liam does not care for fuss on his birthday, as he does not see it as any different than other day. He is aware, though, that birthdays mean a lot to me and let's me do nice things for him. In years passed this has included: making him dinner and sticking a birthday candle in it; making him his morning coffee and sticking a (tall) birthday candle in it and singing at him; making him chocolate chip cookies (which he prefers over cake in general) and sticking birthday candles in them; giving him an empty envelope with a note acknowledging that he hates receiving superfluous gifts, and then giving him a cupcake with a birthday candle in it.
Each year we hide Liam's birthday from well-meaning friends who make a big deal about his birthday. I have to remain cryptic about his actual birthdate when people start fishing for it. I can only say that, like Harry Potter, he is born in the last days of July, and he has many interesting scars. No magical powers have manifested as of yet, nor are we are of any prophecies surrounding him.

We've spent the last few weekends enjoying the summer. The annual Market Days festival brought three days of near-100 degrees heat and such humidity that governments warned citizens to stay indoors. A massive windshear tore through Main Street at 11 p.m. on one of the Market Days, destroying booths and tents for many vendors. Fortunately, the town was abed at that hour and nobody was hurt, but many vendors lost their inventories (thankfully, many were insured). Gibson's lost a tent or two, but fortunately none of our inventory was damaged. I was scheduled to walk up and down Main Street dressed as Waldo from Where's Waldo in promotion of the Bookstore's Where's Waldo downtown scavenger hunt, but with the long sleeves and knee socks that the costume requires, I would have surely succumbed to heat sickness very quickly. I didn't wear the costume, in the end. I still nearly overheated in my sundress and parasol.

We enjoyed a concert by my favorite string quartet rock band, Darlingside, in Bicentennial Square on Saturday night, the close of the Market Days festival. The next day we joined Dan and Marie for a tubing adventure down the Merrimack River. The river had been quite high and swift in the weeks previous (11 people had drowned in the State so far in the month by then), so we were quite cautious in our preparations. The trip downriver took about two hours less than last year, indicating how much faster the river was flowing. Our giant beautiful river looks so deceptive and slow as it serenely rolls past!

We had a snazzy double tube with head rests and a cooler compartment between the seats and netting in the bottom of the tubes to prevent fish from coming up and attacking us from beneath (probably not why the netting was there, but it's something that bothers me so that's how I choose to interpret it). None of us sunburned! Last year we had left the sunscreen bottle at the cars and all suffered for it on our six hour float down the river. I was fortunate that I had my parasol with me last year, but the others were not so lucky. Last year Liam's Irish skin burnt horribly, and Dan and Marie got sun poisoning severe enough to miss several days of work. This year we brought sun protection in the form of creams and (in Liam's Irish white skin ways) protective clothing that we didn't mind getting wet (not shown) and stayed burn free!

Here is a picture of the dog:

Liam was trying to take a picture of the dog with his new hiking dog-panniers, but Nashua's attention was swiftly diverted by a moth. I am especially impressed with the way he seemed to dislocate his jaw to attack his airborne prey.

I hosted a book-signing event at the Bookstore for Terry Brooks, legendary fantasy author (his Sword of Shannara made the New York Times Bestseller list back in 1977, the very first fantasy novel to hit the NYT list, ever. He was the first fantasy author after Tolkien to capture the public's heart. He's had 23 #1's since.):

"Shall we do a serious picture, or a silly one?" I asked.
"Oh, silly I think," he said.
I was thrilled. Authors never seem to want to do silly pictures.
He is a very nice man. I enjoy his events very much.

Independence Day, in which we introduce Nashua to fireworks.

Each year Brian comes to visit up for the 4th of July, and he and Liam and I drive east to the seacoast (of which New Hampshire has 18 miles) to help Liam's grandfather set off fireworks. Grandpa Jack runs Jack's 5-Star Fireworks, and set off the fireworks display for the Beach Club near Hampton Beach, and for the Town of Rye. Usually we hammer together mortar tubes on the beach starting at 6 p.m., linking together the bombs with long fuses, and then hurry-up-and-wait for full dark. This year, however, we were hampered by the tide. The tide was still high at 8 p.m., such that we could only set up at about 9:45 p.m., which is incredibly late. The water was still awfully close, then, but it was enough that we were far enough away from the road that we wouldn't cause a car fire. We knew about the high tide and had easy-to-lay cake-fireworks instead of separate mortars, which only took about 15 minutes to set up. Unfortunately, cake-fireworks don't fly as high as mortars, nor are they quite as fabulous on the lesser budget we were given by the Beach Club (who were not happy with the display or the length, even though they were the ones to cut the budget when they'd heard we couldn't set up mortars in the water). We could hear the Club managers complaining that we weren't able to start at 9:30, demanding we start earlier in direct defiance of the stern safety instructions of the Fire Marshals present and observing, seeming to demand that the tide go out faster. But the tide waits for no man, and nor does it hurry up for any man.
It was nice to have such a fast set-up and clean-up, though. Normally it takes hours, and there is heat and sand and it's full-dark but for our flashlights and the bugs are attracted to our flashlights and then to us.

The Rye fireworks went much better, a fabulous display of cake-fireworks carefully timed to dazzle in the smaller venue of the park field. We brought Nashua with us to these, as it would take only a few hours to execute, short enough that he would have a good chance of behaving, and not acting out from boredom. We kept him on his 50' longline so he could run, and he discovered a tennis ball which he brought back to us to throw. He loves to chase, but quickly loses interest once he's found the ball again. Our intention was to expose him to fireworks, that he learn not to be frightened by the sudden noises and lights so his future blind handler can enjoy holiday parties and events with their families. He did very well. At the first blooms he startled and pressed against Liam's legs, staring up at the lights in the sky, trying to figure it all out. He did not run. He did not bark. He did not cower. His heart beat quickly, but he did not panic, and that was what we had hoped for.

He went right to sleep afterwards, collapsing across my feet in the car's footwell, stuffing his face into the cool air coming from the air conditioner.

In which Liam gets a new job

Liam has a new job! We are very excited. He is taking a in-house Training Coordinator position at Bellwether Credit Union, which entails training everybody in the company's multiple branches (from new frontline tellers in how to use their cash drawer to the CEO in new management technique theories), and coming with new techniques and presentations to use, and keeping an eye on employees to see who could use extra help or who has potential to learn new skills. This position is uniquely suited for Liam, as his superior skill set involves managing people. He is known for his patience and insight, his ability to read people and identify their motivations, and in getting two people who despise each other to agree on business issues being discussed. He starts at his new position in about two weeks. (There is the chance that he'll be able to bring Nashua-the-dog to work with him, too, which presents a unique training opportunity for Nashua to get used to office atmosphere's and staying quiet and still and patient while his future owner works. Office workers having a bad day will get to visit the dog for hugs and snuggles too, so it improves overall office morale as well.)

Liam is sorry to be leaving Lincoln Financial after three years, but this opportunity was too good to pass up, Also, Lincoln's recent flattening of its management levels meant that the advancement opportunities that Liam had been working towards were eliminated and he had no prospects to work towards.

Woohoo!

In which we get tendonitis, and wear pink wigs.

"Where have you been, Elisabeth and Liam? What have you been up to for the past two weeks?"

Liam's shoulder has been bothering him for several weeks now, and he's just got the diagnosis of tendonitis, probably from a swimming session at the gym a few weeks back where he pushed himself to keep up with faster swimmers in his lane. This means several weeks of rest to heal it, which is difficult for a man who does not like to sit still or be idle. A sling helps to remind him not to use it, and gives the external cues to people to be gentle with him and not ask him to reach things off the top shelf, but comes with the frustrating side effect of everybody asking him "What happened to your arm?"

We've finally put our herb garden into the ground! This project is Liam's baby. He's been around beautiful gardens his whole life, thanks to his mother and his grandfather, and he's been itching to get one going since before we even purchased the house. He's starting small this year, with an 8x10' patch carefully planned out to include walkways and convenient distances to reach over and trim and harvest. We've got basil and mint and rosemary and bee balm and lavender and chives and thyme and bergamot all sorts of plants that I don't recognize. His hobby this past winter was herbalism, something that has always interested him. He's got a notebook of recipes and notes about proportions of what worked and didn't work, and whenever I would cough or get stuffed up he'd pop up asking if I wanted him to brew a cup of tea to help with my congestion.

Bahstahn. We attended Anime Boston for the third year in a row (this year's attendance count: Turnstile (door count across three days) - 57,491; Warm Bodies - 21,825). It's tremendous fun to people-watch, to admire the fantastic costumes that people have constructed, and to enjoy what I can only describe as a high quality 3-day Halloween party where everybody gets the same inside jokes. I had tremendous fun with my own costume, which was much improved over last year. My wig was so big with curls that I had to transport it in a hat box! I was treated very differently this year by fellow attendees than last year, much more respectfully, like a professional cosplayer instead of a casual costumer or as the character I was wearing (that was the weirdest last year. People would talk to me like I was the character, and expect me to respond with an extended in-character conversation.). Instead of getting glomped by teenagers, I was approached and had my photograph requested. It's interesting to see the differences! We also got to meet the famous director Nabeshin, which was hilarious and delightful and I got a hug (he didn't speak English well so it was a "Hugu!"), and the Best Drama Video/Editor's Choice video at the Music Video Contest made me cry.
I wore my wig on the trip home because my hair had already been squashed flat for the day, and because when else is one going to get the chance to wear an outrageous pink wig? There were several little girls on the T that couldn't keep their eyes off of me, and one little girl that was brave enough to ask if she could touch my hair. I knelt down and handed her a curl, and she tugged it gently and giggled when it 'boinged!' back up.

A running count of weeds pulled so far this spring : 8604

In which the cherry blossoms blow, and I covet paint samples

The blooms on our cherry pear trees were especially lovely this year. The white blooms stayed open for a full week, filling the air with their perfume, before they started to fall. There were so many petals that they covered the ground with deep drifts of petals and filled the air like our yard was a romantic movie set or a wedding.

My local hardware store clearanced a whole season's worth of paint samples. There are hundreds of little 2 oz containers of paint, enough to paint a swatch on your wall to see if you really like the color, OR, just enough to paint a dinged and scratched and worn object in a lovely color and breathe new life into it. I restrained myself and only bought seven different colors. I've set to work priming, painting, and sealing the decrepit and mismatched flower pots that I've accumulated across the years.

This is not a pear tree. It is our crab apple tree.
The blossoms are pink, and lovely.

We found an electric hedge trimmer. I'm quite excited about it. I have to remember to be careful in how I use it, lest I fall into the trap of "oops, this side is uneven, I'll just trim it down to match.... oops, now this side is uneven, I'll just trim it... oops...".  I took it for a spin this afternoon and finally beat our rhododendron hedge into submission. Now instead of looking line a furry blob, it looks like a respectable shrub. Granted, I need some practice, and it's entirely possible that there's a divot or two not shown in these pictures, but I'm really unreasonably proud that I did this well my first time out of the gate.

Before! Looking pretty shaggy.

After! Moderately acceptable, and definitely neater!

(Incidentally, hedge trimmers also work well to cut down thick clumps of crab grass that our vintage push-reel mower was having trouble with.)



A running count of weeds pulled so far this spring : 7507

In which we consider ways in which we are willing to expend effort in yardwork, and ways in which we are not.

Happy Birthday to my wonderful mother-in-law, Elizabeth Claire!

Liam's Grandpa Jack is recovering very nicely from his heart surgery (a scheduled surgery, not an emergency procedure). He's up on his feet, and was cooking at the stove with no hesitation, shooing people away when they hovered and offered to help.

Yardwork is consuming all of our free time these days. We're anxious not to let our home become that house on the block where it looks like the owner has given up. You all know that house, the one where colored bottles and figurines and "collectibles" fill every window, where cheap statuary has filled the property, where dandelions compete with tall crab grass among the dust. The neighborhood children avoid it because of the neglected vibe it gives off, and the adults find their eyes sliding past it in embarrassment. We're not looking to be the best landscaped house on the street, but looking like we care, like we're trying even though we have no idea what we're doing, that would be nice. But we also have very little interest in maintaining a picture perfect grassy lawn, considering all of the effort that it requires compared to the reward. To that end, we're carefully considering every landscaping decision in order to achieve a property that pretty much takes care of itself.

The look that we're not going for.

 

Frustrated with our current lawn, which is patchy and scrubby with large areas of brown, we've decided to seed down microclover among the grass to fill in the gaps. Clover will provide lush green coverage (for appearances) and provides the environmental advantages of fixing the nitrogen levels in the soil, requiring less water, and shading the soil to keep nutrients and moisture from bleaching out in the sun. Perhaps best of all, it requires less mowing than grass.
I started raking up the dead grass and spring detritus in preparation of putting down lime and the clover seed. I've never done that before. I've always considered it a waste of effort. I'm shocked at how much nicer a lawn looks without all of the dead grass laying around! "Why," I said, "it looks so nice now! Now I see why people put in the effort of raking it up in the spring!" Pulling weeds up is easier too, now that I don't have to fight a mat of dead vegetation. Apparently it cuts down on ticks, too, which like to hide in leaf litter and dead grass.

(I got my first tick bite this weekend. I had just mentioned to Liam that morning how I had never had a tick on me before, and how bugs seem to leave me alone more than other people (which is fortunate as chemical insect repellents applied to my skin always leave me feeling ill). During our regular after-yardwork tick check I looked down to see one on my stomach. All logical reason left my brain and I started flailing at it and shrieking. Liam came to my rescue with rubbing alcohol to drown it and tweezers to carefully remove it, stopping me from ripping it out of my skin and possibly leaving part of its jaw on my body. Gross. New Hampshire has one of the highest rates of Lyme Disease in the country, which has me looking for natural tick repellents. I've started wearing geranium oil when I'm out in the yard, but I can't tell if it's working as I don't have a high rate of past tick passengers to compare it to.)

While I spent the weekend getting a sunburn out in the yard, Liam hiked Mt. Rattlesnake with Rob and the dog, pulled out all of our patio furniture from the shed and attic, and built a screen for our front storm-door. Why did I think that replacing screens was difficult, or something specialists did?! Two sets of hands make it easier, but actually inserting new screen into the screen frame took less than five minutes (building the frame to fit right into the door took much longer). It made us pause and look around at all of the small tears and gaps in our window screens, considering the possibilities.

Nashua is six months old, 48 pounds, and a terror embracing his rebellious "teenage" phase by gleefully disobeying all of the commands he followed two weeks ago. He likes to disobey until I've had enough and sentence him to a timeout in his kennel, whereupon he'll immediately lay down where he is and look innocent. "Me? Kennel? Oh, no, kennels are for sleeping and Bad Dogs. Look at what a Good Dog I am! I'm just laying here, chewing on a bone, not... doing... anything..." This is a blatant lie, and because I can't back down without becoming a doggie pushover (which leads to more disobedience once he's learned that he can get away with it), this usually turns into me picking him up under his armpits (legpits?) and hauling him into the crate as he resists and howls about how he CAN'T GO BACK TO JAIL! His new favorite outdoor toy is the garden hose, both because it dispenses the Magic Water of Fun, and because he enjoys watching us try to catch him before we think to stomp of the hose and restrict his movements. When we fill his kiddie pool with one inch of water he spends all of his time "digging" in it, splashing water everywhere. When we fill his kiddie pool with six inches of water he growls and bucks and stomps and plunges like a crazed dolphin, splashing water three feet high as he tries to bite it.

A running count of weeds pulled so far this spring: 6549

Things I'm Learning About Gardening: Part I

Things I have learned this week about gardening and landscaping:

• Gardeners cuts blooms and branches for their tables not only because they look lovely, but because pruning the plants keeps them in check and keeps them healthy. This has literally never occurred to me. 
• Forsythia branches turn into roots where they touch the ground, and the bush expands in this manner into a snarled mess. This is why I had difficulty mowing the lawn around these bushes last year.
• Forsythia is not pronounced "For Cynthia". I don't know why I put an 'n' in there, but I think it sounds nice.
• If you rake your lawn in the spring, you can pull up the mat of dead grass left over from last year's lawn.
• Take before and after pictures before you go at an overgrown tree or shrub, so you can see how much work you did, and admire how much better it looks.
• Stone is expensive. I'm not sure what I expected, but I just want a few stepping stones and most places want you to purchase a whole pallet of the nice kinds.
• The dog is really interested in digging in freshly tilled soil.
• The dog is also determined to steal my root digging tool, convinced that it is a magical stick that is ideal for playing Keep Away. He tries to be sneaky, which is quite adorable because he's terrible about being sneaky.
• Spending two hours pulling dandelions is akin to two hours of squats. I have muscles screaming at me in places I didn't even know I had muscles.
• If you put a "Free!" sign out in front of your pile of limbs and branches, teenagers planning a bonfire will haul away your pile for free.

The annual war against dandelions has begun. In the last four days I have pulled over 2000 weeds from the yard and garden (mostly dandelions, but there are lots of tiny maple saplings too), in a bid to reclaim my lawn from the anarchy it was allowed to enjoy in years past. Counting helps me power through the tedium, and gives me a sense of accomplishment.

Last week was World Book Night. This year was the first year I participated as a Book Giver. I chose the Penacook Soup Kitchen as my location to hand out books. I was so nervous! I was certain that I would be rejected every time I offered someone a novel. I shouldn't have worried, though. I handed out my twenty books in under five minutes. Some of the people were already starting to read their books before I had even left. This week I'm trying to find homes for the extra books left over from the bookstore.