Happy Gardening Anniversary

The small xeriscape garden bed

I just got an email that made my day. It was from Gardner's Supply Company wishing me a Happy Anniversary since my first order with them was April 18, 2005. 

I ordered a Tomato Success Kit from Gardner's Supply so I could grow some vegetables in pots even though I didn't have a garden. I've had some huge success and huge failures in the 3 seasons that I've grown in the success kit. Cherry tomatoes = OMG I can't eat another tomato by the end of the season. Heirloom tomatoes = it's October and I'd really like one ripe tomato before the frost kicks in.

The gardening project I'm most proud of though is my xeriscape garden. When I first moved to the townhouse, it had two giant, spiderweb infested, fire-hazard dry evergreen bushes straddling the front walk. When I'd leave the house in the morning for work, I'd put both arms straight out in front of me and scissor them as I walked to keep the spider webs from hitting me in the face. I lived with this for three years.

But then, Will moved in and our first project was to tackle the outside - rebuild the back deck and do something about the evergreen bushes. We braved the heat and prickles that summer and spent a miserable weekend cutting back and hauling away the bushes. 

My initial plan was to grind the stumps so we could have a flat garden. But, being smart and responsible we had the utility company come out to mark where all of our pipes were and the gas line went right under one of the bushes. So, Plan B emerged and we used leftover wood from our big deck project to build raised garden beds.

I knew I wanted a xeriscape garden out front because it gets so much heat and sun. I had fallen madly in love with the Xeric Aroma Garden from High Country Gardens. It was sold out for the spring, so I had to wait until the fall to get my plants. They were tiny when they arrived, and Will was embarrassed by our teeny tiny plants randomly spaced our huge planters. But the next spring-summer-fall, they went gangbusters and grew into giant behemoths that gave off the most amazing scent whenever it rained. Rather than defending myself against the plants in the front, I touched them whenever I walked by to release the herby scents from each of the plants.

I can take my Tomato Success Kit with me to the new house, but I have to leave behind my aroma garden. It will be so hard to leave behind something that I've spent so much time nurturing. The good news though, is that I'll have a blank slate (once I clear out all of the new house's weeds & sucker trees) to start over with a new garden that I know I'll love just as much as this one.

The Trappings of Fame

I'm famous at my grocery store. Or, maybe more accurately my reusable bag collection is famous at my grocery store. 

I did a light trip to the store tonight to pick up some essentials and veggies and my ever-refilling Rx. As I cruised up toward the front of the store to ring up my purchases I passed by two check out lanes with the weird cashiers and picked a lane with a bit more of a line, but no weirdo at the helm. 

The cashier gave me a knowing smile as he rung up the rest of the groceries for the woman in front of me. I had a moment of, "Oh my God, he knows who I am. Why does he know who I am? Does he recognize my green coat? Does he think I'm cute? That's giantly weird if he does because I usually shop with my husband."

As the cashier started ringing my groceries, he asked, "Did you get a new bag from another store?"

Ah, that's how he remembered me. We had discussed my vast collection of reusable bags before - and he always gets confused by the reusable wine bag from Zupan's. I try to pick up a bag from every grocery store that I visit for work. Oddly enough, this means that while I have reusable bags from Wegmans, Hy-Vee, New Seasons, Central Market, D'Agostino's and others, I don't have a bag from Safeway, where I do 90% of my grocery shopping.

"How many of these bags do you have?" the cashier asked. 

I had no freaking clue, so I made up a number.  But when I got home tonight, I counted up my reusable bags. I have 12 bags from grocery stores around the country, and six others from other places. And I think I actually have a few other bags in the trunk of my car. So there might be more. I could do the shopping for about a dozen Thanksgiving dinners and have room to pack it all up.

But for tonight, it meant that I had three bags of groceries, and 15 empty bags leftover to haul home. At least the boy scouts would be proud of me for being prepared.

Inching Toward Moving On

At what point do I start the break-up process with my now-under-contract-townhouse? Or did I already start it the minute I signed the paperwork to put it up for sale?

I love this house. I have since the minute I walked in the door while house hunting and saw two Birds of Paradise flowers on the dining room table beneath the orange pendant light. It was totally over my budget and my realtor was only showing me the house because he wanted to set me up with the seller. It was love at first sight with the house, not so much with the guy.

This is the last house my old-man cat lived in. This is the house where Will proposed to me. This is the house where I got really sick, and then got healthy again (and again). I still call the guest bathroom "Carrie's bathroom" after my roommate and dear friend who lived here with me for the first three years. Somewhere in this house is the ring that my mom gave me with the green stone that I'm super bummed I misplaced (okay, lost). Will and I have put a lot of work into this house - we've rebuilt the decks, redone the bathrooms, painted and painted again, replaced crunchy dead evergreen bushes with a xeriscaped garden, and so much more. 

I want to move (believe me, I wouldn't go through all the headache of house hunting for nothing). I want new and bigger projects to tackle with Will. I want potential to make a house a home without an HOA dictating how that can be done and what colors can be used to do it. I want a garden with room for more than a pot of tomatoes. And the new (potential) house is perfect for all of these wants. 

But I'm still wandering around the current house, thinking about all of the things that I'm going to miss. That will go away, right? 

What is this? The 50s?

Dear Financial World,

I find it very insulting that my decision to get married has somehow meant that I leave all decisions about money to my husband. 

I accomplished a lot in this world before getting married. I had my own career, paid my own bills, bought my own car, bought my own house, and I even managed to keep it together through some of the toughest times of my life, all before marriage. I was a complete person, emotionally and financially. 

I decided to get married because I love the guy, not because I needed a knight in shining armor. I still very much value my independence. 

So don't address all mortgage mail to my husband's attention only. And don't list him as the borrower and me as the co-borrower. I'm responsible for half the mortgage, and my ass is on the line too if we somehow can't afford what we've committed too. And when we combined accounts, why did they all go into his name only (I'm looking at you, AT&T)? We're equal partners here in these endeavors - so it would really help my frustration level if you could treat us as such.

-Anne