3 posts tagged “gardens”

I've spent a lot of time goofing around with the camera recently. So since I've been somewhat sporadic with my MAMM posts lately, I figured I'd make up for it somewhat with a twofer this week.

First, here's "Me and My (Mongo-Huge) Marigolds.

Me and My Marigolds

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I've never seen marigolds grow so tall and big before. My neighbor Caroline gave us the seeds earlier this summer, and we planted them around our flagpole. The big yellow ones have completely overtaken the smaller, more traditional orange-red ones. I'm sitting on the grass here, and they're taller than my head.

Next, "My and My Sly"

Kitty Kisses

They say cats want things on their own terms. Sly proves it here. Give him a kiss and he's all like "why are you buggin' me?"

But when HE wants a snuggle, there's no stopping him. No matter what:

Whatcha Readin'?

Reading a book? Too bad. The book is now a kitty launch pad.

And last but not least, I don't know which of us is more easily amused, me or Sly. When I was outside taking the marigold photos, he was watching intently in the kitchen window. I went over to see him, and we had some quality time head-butting each other through the window:

Through-The-Window Headbutt

I like the way this one turned out because the reflections in the window let you know it's there, but yet it really doesn't look like there's a pane of glass between my head and Sly's.

Happy Monday!

So this morning I got up and had coffee, Lee and I taking turns cuddling our recently de-balled and stilll somewhat offended kitty.

We were going to try to take a trip to the mountains this weekend. Not sure what we were thinking, what with Sly's balls and all ... like he could make that kind of road trip after such recent turmoil!

Instead, we went to the produce shop and spent the morning stocking up on fruit and fresh veggies, laughing the whole time because we'd recently seen the Seinfeld rerun where Kramer and Jerry get banned from the produce shop and have to send George to get their fruit and veggies. 

We came home and Lee made a huge breakfast, then we trimmed Vinnie's claws and gave him a bath. Weasel baths are quite the adventure. One minute Vinnie seems to actually like trying to swim in the tub, and the next he's frantically trying to climb out. It takes good reflexes to catch a wet, slippery weasel.

A little later I went outside and spent a few hours in the yard. We've seriously neglected the flower beds recently, other than watering them. Lee's been focused on his shed, and I've just been a lazy wench who doesn't want to deal with the swamp-ass heat unless I'm going to the pool. So I spent some time sitting or kneeling in the grass with my hands in the dirt, pulling weeds and checking out all the life springing up in my gardens.

At some point, it hit me just how darn CONTENT I was, there with my butt in the grass, wet from this morning's rain, and my hands all gritty and grimy. I inhaled the smells of earth and green things growing, and could literally feel the stress rolling off my back.

Then I had one of the most refreshing showers in my life. I was covered in dirt and grime. My arms were a latticework of fresh scratches - those were from Vinnie using them to try to make an escape from the tub - and a few bugbites. I stood there with the hot water cleansing all the dirt and boo-boos and thought "I haven't felt this good in a REALLY long time."

I thought how nice it would be if someone would pay me to do this every day, how lovely it would be to make money pulling weeds and tending gardens instead of living in a flourescent-lit mental hotbox. And someone would, probably, but it wouldn't be what they pay me for playing one of the millions of "Office Space" characters in our world.

Work like that - making a garden grow - feeds the soul. So I guess they figure they have to pay you more for the kinds of jobs that starve it.

Lucky for me, I have such a healing balm right in my own back yard.

I credit a lot of the successes I've had in my career to the mentorship of my former boss Dave.

I started working with Dave in the late 90's sometime. He was the type of boss who recognized talent and potential, but more importantly, was willing to reward dedication. He realized quickly that I was overworked and underpaid, and although there wasn't much he could do about the overworked issue (we were also understaffed), he went to bat for me and took care of the underpaid part.

For years, Dave and I looked forward to working on the project I'm on now together - me as the lead for our office, and him as the overall manager and decision-maker for us. Back then, we were supposed to start in 2004. We DID start, actually. But then budget cuts stalled the project for 2 years, and by the time we started up again Dave had retired.

But he's the kind of guy who wants to see things through to the end. And so, rather than leaving before the project he had so looked forward to was finished, he agreed to come back 20 hours a week and work with us as a consultant.

I rely on Dave's knowledge every day. One part of this project that always stymies me is trying to figure out WHY we would have done something a certain way 10, 15, or 20 years ago. Some of the data I have to analyze and figure out what to do with now is just ...well, bizarre sometimes. Dave always has a good theory. But more importantly, he's a friend and a mentor who helps keep me sane. He gives me advice on how to handle touchy political situations and always makes sure I can find the humor in even the most frustrating of circumstances.

So anyway, I mentioned the other day that a co-worker and I found a few tomato plants growing, of all places, right outside our office building!

Dave's Tomatoes

Kind of an odd place for tomatoes, huh?

When we were chatting the other day, I idly mentioned this oddity to Dave, wondering who would have planted them smack dab outside an administrative office at the university. Dave pondered it for a minute, then burst out laughing.

"I'll bet I did!" he said.

"Huh?" I replied, and then the answer dawned on me too.

Ever since I've known him, I've always teased him about his eating habits. He rarely eats a meal, other than the dinners his wife makes at home. At work, he lives on coffee, pastries, snack food from the vending machines, and the occasional piece of fruit.

Oh, and tomatoes.

Every now and then, Dave will munch a tomato the same way you'd eat an apple or a peach. No slicing or salt and peppering for him. He just eats it whole and as is. Often, he'd wander around outside while eating, just walking around the building getting a dose of fresh air and chomping into a big round juicy tomato.

So our theory is that these plants springing up outside our building are the remnants of Dave's walk-and-munch sessions, the seeds that dribbled down to the earth while he was pondering the answer to some office problem.

Dave really helped me, and a lot of other employees, grow as professionals. But it seems we're not his only legacies at the university:

Dave's Tomato