My Moon Flower - Oenothera triloba

Oenothera triloba

Ha, I have found you my pretties! I have been calling these beautiful flowers "Moon Flowers" for lack of a better name since I found them in my garden. I should explain that when we purchased the house I live in at present, it was obvious that the original owners were avid gardeners. Unfortunately the gentleman that bought the house from those folks, when they could not tend it any further, was not in possession of a green thumb. He lived in the house for approximately a year, then rented it out for about a year. When we moved in and the snow melted, I was excited and aghast. The remains of a well-manicured garden and lawn was hidden underneath weeds and shrubbery that was reeking havoc with  the light expectations of the straggling plants underneath. I found a bedraggled peony, that I still cannot get to bloom, abysmal rhubarb, day lilies by the wagon load and WEEDS! I would never have guessed that thistles could flourish so well in the middle of the city.

So over a long period of time, I attacked the project that was my garden. I gave a very aggressive pruning to a shrub that was almost lying on the ground from a lack of pruning and winter snow that punished the untamed boughs. With the addition of light and space, I found many plants, some of which I had to question their lineage. Was that a valid plant or noxious weed? Some I left to explore, some were pulled in the name of order. The Oenothera triloba hid for a while, which I am glad of. It looks remarkably like a dandelion, so would have been pulled post haste. The real beauty and show of this special plant happens at night though. As day winds to a close and dusk encroaches, this relative of the evening primrose family struts its stuff. Literally right before your eyes, you can watch the flowers open! They only last for one night and close up by mid-morning the next day. Do not rue the passing of the flower in too short a span though, as these plants continue to bloom most of the summer. It also makes babies pretty prolifically, so you can enjoy them yourself, spread them around your garden, or share them with friends. They will turn up their nose at your gift of a dandelion until the pretty yellow blooms pop open at night. 

Hopefully you have a night full of clear skies where you are. I have to make do with pictures of the outside world tonight, as rain plummets down. May the night still live and hold promise for you...

Stoep in Rain

Here is my attempt at concrete poetry from many moons ago. I thought it was quite clever at the time. I share it here as an addition to my African tale, as it was written in Port St Johns, South Africa. I  will also include it over at Jingle's to see if anyone appreciates my whimsy at Jingle's Poet's Rally. I will transliterate below;

Green, leafy

STOEP in RAIN.

Pine tree Sprinkled

with moisture

D

   O

      W

          N

at the 

Beach.

Grey clouds

Sque tears ezing

on

ME.

Wet F o o t p r i n t s

Trace 

THE PATH

2

The Toilet Bowl

I spent a lot of time thinking and creativity came back to me a spell while in this tranquil locale. I would suggest it in a heart beat for anyone wishing to travel in a quiet kind of way with nature on your doorstep and all around. 

Cutting Grass

   Rain patters outside my window. I hustled, but the grass got trimmed, although not edged. I get so many odd looks when I toodle around on my riding mower. Don't know if people think I am brave to ride such a thing or crazy to have one without the acreage to go with it. The kids think it is great though and it saves me a little time, which is a precious thing. To be fair it was a gift to my late husband, from his co-workers. They knew he had mobility issues in his last days and our old mower was giving up the ghost on us. They did a pass the hat at work and showed up one evening with it in the back of a trailer. He was shocked, embarrassed and pleased as punch all at the same time. He thought that they were coming by to take our older mower and have its deck re-welded. That eventually did get done as well, but the riding mower was a heart-felt gift that gives me great joy.

   Thunder rumbles. Good thing I got done fast! The first time I tried to use the riding lawn mower was a sight to see. Hmm. I was almost in tears. While I have had some lessons in standard vehicles, that was not enough for me to wrap my head around making this piece of equipment go on that day. I put the key in the ignition and turned it, with no response. I read all the stickered instructions plastered all over the place at my feet and tried again. This time I pushed the clutch peddle in and turned the key. I got a rumble, but still could not get it to fire. I tried again, and again. I re-read the instructions and looked at all the levers and handles. I felt small and powerless, as I struggled with making this machine come to life. I wanted so badly to take control of my life and accomplish something all by myself. I got angry. I got teary. I got nothing more than a puff of smoke and noise. Just when I wanted to burst into tears and kick the object that was reeking havoc on my life and brittle self-esteem a voice said,

   "Hello Kathy."

   I looked up. Normally I don't go by Kathy (always been a Katherine), so I knew it was not someone I knew well. My elderly  neighbour was ambling across the road. He had been watching me attempting to get the mower going and saw that I was loosing the battle. He is a kindly man in his eighties that had lost his wife a few years back. Now he lived alone, but still gets around. I noticed he was out trimming his bushes, as I cut my grass this morning. Hugs to you Larry! Anyway, that day Larry made a little small talk.

   "It looks like you are having a little trouble there," he said.

    I hung my head and admitted my incompetence. The man is so sweet and I think his kindness that day came from a compassion born of our kinship. He knew grief and could see it all over me. My problem was the mower, but the bigger problem was learning how to live again without the appendage that was my spouse.  Brad had always cut the grass previously with our riding mower. I was well-versed in a push mower, but had nothing to fall back on to help me in this new task at hand. There was no one I could turn to in my house to ask for help or to hand the task over  to. You see, my tears were not over the fact that I could not get the mower to work. My tears were another manifestation of loss and grief. I was alone. I wanted to be able to function, but at every turn realized that a piece of my life, a piece of me was gone. The mower was a reminder and at that moment in time, I could not go it alone. I needed help, but did not know how to ask or even who to ask. Truly, I did not want to have to  ask for help. I felt like I required help every step of the way and it just seemed to beat me down. On that day, a guardian angel appeared in the form of my 85 year-old neighbor and he gave me the help I needed graciously. 

    Now I feel the windows are not full of rain, but clouded by tears with this memory. I have had so many beautiful people step into my life at moments of need. Sometimes they step in for a moment, like Larry did. Other times they have held my hand for days, weeks and months. Still others will walk with me for the years that I call a lifetime. I do not know why I thought of this today, other than that I had to cut the grass. Most days I am pretty stable and happy with life. I managed to winterize the mower myself this past winter. I cut the grass whenever it needs without a bat of an eye. I know that I will be hit by moments of grief on occasion and that will continue for a long time to come. Always I will have that experience of loss there. The sorrow that goes with it lessens over time. This I have been told and know from my own experiences. Today, I remember as I watch the rain. Hopefully I will let it go this afternoon, as I breathe and lay my head on the yoga mat. Namaste. 

A Horse of Course

I live on a quiet little crescent 

that goes nowhere fast.

We've one way in,

one way out

and

apparently

that is good enough 

for a man and his horse

to go for an afternoon adventure on.

Who would have guessed?

Seven Ravens?

Whew! What a day. I feel like I haven't slowed down and won't have time to for a while. When and how did this happen, I wonder to myself? One day I am bobbing along doing not much of anything, the next...

Wham! Go, go, go! 

The regular routines of getting the kids up and out to start the day with some kind of breakfast thrown their way. A detour to the vet was thrown in today (checkup - no worries). I also got to dabble in paints, as an art show is coming up that my workplace will be participating in. By trying to play catch-up, I get a few more hours which are always welcome. Tuesday and Thursdays are my regular working days {work like a dog ;) }. At this rate I am going to have to invest in a new wardrobe almost. Messy, messy me is going to trash some of the questionable clothes in my repertoire of staples in the closet. I truly am not complaining though. While getting my hands dirty sometimes causes me deep-seated angst that rears its ugly head from my childhood, I am getting over it. Enough that I even volunteered to work today. Not Wednesday though. I have a date to take my girlies to visit their new school that they will be attending in September. Ahhhh! Run screaming from the thought that my little ones are growing up!!! It will all be better after I lay my head on the yoga mat that afternoon. Ohmmm. Yes.

So, I do have to admit one quick thing, before I sign off my ramble for the evening. Normally this post would have been a book review, as tonight I met with my book club. Alas, I fail today. Our book for the month was entitled "Seven Ravens: Two summers in a life by the sea", by Lesley Choyce. I have to admit that I have not finished the book as of yet. Really, I think I will struggle to finish the book. Normally I can find something good to say about most books.  By the description on the back jacket of the book, I was really looking forward to the book as well. It described the book as one man's journey through a difficult time (an undisclosed crisis) and how he works through it. 

Alas, it was all lies. Perhaps not lies, but I imagined that the book was going to be some kind of journey where the author was going to find wonderful epiphanies about life. If he did, he did not share them with us the readers. In discussing the book with fellow members of my book club, there were many who had high hopes and envisaged perhaps something akin to  "Eat, Love, Pray", by Elizabeth Gilbert. Not by a long shot. Sorry Lesley, but your book was as dry as dirt in my humble opinion. I hate admitting that (especially as I choose this particular book), but I almost fell asleep reading it last night in a desperate attempt to finish it for this evening's festivities. My eyes refused to cooperate and were shutting of their own volition. They did not want to be assaulted by the boring text and refused to play. I never fall asleep while reading, but I gave last night. Sigh... I will try to finish the book at some point, but I think that perhaps it is just time to move on. Better luck for the next book. 

As per our discussion this evening, perhaps we will just hold out hopes that year 2 of our little book club will bring some finer literature to the table. We are going to go the route of genres next year. My genre is poetry, which I love, but fear may be painful for some in our clan. Perhaps if you have any favourite poets out there you could send me a line for me to entice my reluctant readers with. What say you?