Friday, May 25, 2015
Today I am grateful for my outside nest. We have another room to our house in summer and it’s mine, all mine. Our patio. Himself will sit out there with me for a little while, if I beg a lot, but mostly it’s not hooked up to his baseball game on the computer, or little figures he paints in the basement or sporting events he scrolls on the TV. I’m good with that.
Because it’s my nest. I tuck my chair that has a pop-up leg rest into the corner, grab a water and a book and sit out there as long as the heat will allow. My corner is always in the shade except for a few minutes when I have to shift my feet to keep the sun off of them.
We bought plants and strategically placed them where they would best grow and where I can best enjoy them from my perch. New wind chimes remind me of the tropics. The holly hedge looked like a 70’s rock star with its long furry branches all akimbo. Made me crazy because I never know when the powers that maintain our development will come through to trim. Last year when I asked it would be “next week”, which turned into a month. I can’t wait because the foliage was blocking my view of the bird traffic into a house on the hill and the birdbath which is ensuite.
So I got out the electric hedge trimmer and had my way with it, slicing and flailing like Edward Scissor Hands, Himself ducking out of the way and raking up debris. “How do you manage to get this thing so even with no gouges,” he asked. I told him it really isn’t hard. I just look at is as a really BIG haircut where I don’t have to worry about nicking an ear. Voila!
My outside nest is ready. My book is ready. My water is ready. It’s time to sit outside reading. . .napping. . .reading. . .napping. . .reading. . .napping. . .zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.