The Garden Cart

God Bless Orion and The One!  Last Christmas, they gave Better Half and me a John Deere garden cart for Christmas, claiming we are incredibly difficult to buy for. 

Our present sat unassembled in the garage all winter.  Better Half fretted over where we would store it.  Each and every day we walked around it.  As the weather grew warmer and garden chores mounted, I had begun despair that the little green cart would never make it to the North Forty. 

Today, a huge day of garden work lay ahead of me, so I began the task of assembling the cart while Better Half was not home. I knew it would come in handy.  Better Half quietly took over where I left off, and delivered the tractor and cart to the North Forty where I worked.  

Best Christmas present ever!!!!  In one day's time, the perky green and yellow cart has become my all-time-favorite-top-of-the-heap garden accessory.  I don't know how I have gardened all these years without one.  No more lugging tillers, flats of flowers, buckets ,trees, mulch, tools, trimmers, dirt, plants, dead plants, and sheets full of leaves and debris all over the North Forty.  No Sirree!  The handy dandy garden cart can do it all. Trust me, I put it to the test today.

Isn't she a beaut?    

From the Left

 From the Right

From the Rear

 Just can't get enough of her.

Thanks, Orion and The One.  

What a spectacularly great present!

The Promise Delivered

Just last week,

 I took to the North Forty 

in search of spring 

and found painfully little. 

Several drenching thunderstorms later,

spring has burst upon the scene exuberantly.

I reveled in its beauty this evening.

A special thanks to my brother 

for his words of encouragement

This one's for you!

 

The Promise of Spring

It was one of those March days

when the sun shines hot 

and the wind blows cold: 

when it is summer in the light,

and winter in the shade.

~Charles Dickens

The Old River Road - Part 3

New Year's Day found me yearning for an adventure 

and anxious to leave behind the mounds

 of Christmas decorations strewn about the house.

So, I hopped into my trusty Suburban, camera bag in hand, and set off 

with no particular destination in mind.

And, then it hit me, as I drove west out of my little town.

Over 2 years ago in September 2012,

I wrote a post about the Old River Road, an ancient stone road

 that carried wagon and carriage traffic across the river bottoms.

Towering weeds, chief among them poison ivy,

prevented me from walking the entire length of the road.

I vowed to return to finish the walk later.

Fast forward to January 1, 2015.

The same primitive sign greeted me,

and I again noted the absence of a 

"No Trespassing" sign.

So, off I went.

 Deep grooves were worn into the stone by wagon wheels,

 particularly noticeable on the right. 

 The walk proceeded nicely,

until this mini mountain rose up out

of the floodplain to greet me.

Someone had decided to deter explorers 

by heaving up a large mound of soil the width of the road.

From this point forward, dead weeds and small trees completely obscured the path.

Stones still lined both sides of the road, and the roadbed lay noticeably 

higher than the surrounding farmland.

Not to be deterred, I chose to walk alongside the road, 

knowing full well I had left the right of way

 and was now trespassing.

I seriously doubted anyone would be out scouring the fields for trespassers,

given the downright brisk breeze whipping out of the west,

hangovers 

and football games, 

the latter two of which were not in short supply on January 1.

It was my goal to walk to the old bridge that crossed the terminus 

of the Ohio Erie Canal, Lock Number 55. However, once I reached that point,

I decided to explore the lock and I longed to follow the road to its end.

All that remained of the road was its steel frame.  No crossing there.

It was flanked on both sides by huge beautiful walls of rectangular pieces of sandstone,

which, for the most part, remained intact.

The only way to cross the expanse was to descend about ten feet to a concrete 

path which crossed the waterway, then back up an embankment on

the other side.

The view to the Ohio River from the middle of the concrete path.

As I continued on the far side of the lock,

 the huge pieces of stone lay helter skelter about the landscape.  

Towering sycamore trees had displaced many of them as they grew.

The river was now only 4 or 5 feet below me and a stone's throw away.

At the beginning of the walk, the river lay some 20 feet below me.

These were the last stones I saw on the road.

Just beyond this point, the land had been scraped clean of its top soil

and had been graded flat.  Another large pile of topsoil lay in the way.

 I had not reached the Scioto River, but the adventure of 

following the road had ended.  I tucked a small square stone

into the pocket of my hoodie and turned to make the return trip,

full into the bitter wind, feeling a little sad.  

A bike path had been contemplated across the land at some point, but

right of way issues rose at the end of the road,

effectively killing the proposed project.

It would still make a fabulous walking or bicycle path, 

bringing people outside to enjoy the beauty of the countryside,

and explore the history of the area firsthand.

Even on a cold, muddy January afternoon, 

it was a worthwhile adventure.

The river view to the south

and 

the Scioto River Valley to the north.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Week 3 - The Great Adventure

A bassinet, Fisher Price Rainforest Gym, and play baby cradle in which a Shirley Temple doll has been lovingly put to bed grace the formal living room.  A double stroller, a really monstrous piece of equipment, probably 6 feet long, sits alongside the formal dining room table, just next to the packed diaper bag and the car seat/carrier.  The front hall sports two rocking chairs, a big one and a tiny one, a Pack n Play, toy grocery cart, wooden blocks and assorted toys, too numerous to mention.  Clean baby bottles are lined up on the kitchen counter right next to the can of formula.  As I meander through the house, the scene repeats itself in almost every room, evidence of little people everywhere.

Only when I put on my big girl eyes do I even notice any of it.

The babytization of my house has been taking place for almost two years, when Baby Granddaughter first came to spend her weekdays with me while her mom and dad worked.  11 weeks ago, Baby Grandson was born to Orion and The One.  2 weeks ago, he and Baby Granddaughter arrived on my doorstep.  The Great Adventure had begun.

I think it fair to say that fear and confusion ruled the day, heck, ruled the week.  The simple logistics of getting two children into a vehicle for a trip to pre-school were mind boggling.  My train of thought for a two minute period of time went something like this.  Make sure two year old has tried to use the potty.  Put the sleepy, crying infant, who is looking at me as if I were an alien, into the car seat, arms flailing in every direction.  Remember to put blanket over infant. Help two year old put on jacket.  Make sure snacks, blanket, and stuffed animal are ready to take to school. Pick up keys and diaper bag.  Forget setting burglar alarm.  Who has time?  Pick up car seat and head towards door with infant and two year old, hoping two year old will not bolt toward the street on her way to the car.  Be calm.  It will be OK, I keep reassuring myself as I try to decide which child to put into his/her car seat first.  Whew!

After collapsing into the driver's seat, I seriously begin to my question my fitness for the job, not to mention, my sanity.  This scene was played out over and over again during our first week together, as we we struggled to adjust, me to them, and them to me.  Tears were shed by all of us. Nap times were sketchy, and irregular, and when neither slept, a long ride in the gorgeous fall countryside put them to sleep and quieted frayed grandmother nerves.  New routines had to be learned by Baby Granddaughter and me, as we assimilated Baby Grandson into our previously private rituals. 

Week Two, thankfully, was a little easier and a lot happier for us all.  To ease our cabin fever on a blustery rainy day, and to prove to myself that we were making progress, we ventured out to Wendy's for a little lunch.  It was a stress-free, fun outing, even when Baby Granddaughter announced  that she had to potty, in the middle of the restaurant, and even when Baby Grandson decided to serenade the patrons with the "I've had enough of this car seat, Mamaw" cry.   I have learned, in the past two weeks, that "I have to potty" means "I HAVE TO POTTY NOW!"  I have also learned that infants make their needs known anywhere and any time.  

Friday afternoon, as Baby Grandson lay sleeping in my arm, Baby Granddaughter snuggled up to my other side.  There we sat, happily, contentedly, on the sofa, until Daddy came to claim them.  During those blissful moments, I did actually rejoice in having the opportunity to experience little children in my life again, to watch them grow, and to help them along the way. Then, Daddy pulled out of the driveway with his two beautiful creations, bound for home, and I rejoiced again!

Bring on Week Three!