The Shady Nook

   After piddling in the Small Gardens a bit, it was time for ice cold lemonade and a bit of rest.  It was hot out there and I was told "Don't get overheated nor dehydrated."  So I followed the doctor's orders and pulled my comfy wicker chair into the shade and sat sipping my lemonade.  Being in the gardens made me happy this morning.  If I cannot go for hikes, I can enjoy the birds singing, frogs chirping and butterflies flitting about the place.  The Small Gardens have become my "Happy Place" where most of my healing is being done.

  As I was cooling myself, I could not help but notice how delightfully restful a shady garden really is.  The vegetable plot is sun-drenched but huge oak trees and draping mimosa trees block out most of the heat of the day from the "sittin' area".  From here, you can hear the water running in Pebble Creek and watch the tadpoles in Puddle Pond.  It is also here that a myriad of butterflies visit the zinnia bed.  Gardens are restful.  Life is good.  "Nuff said.

Father Knows Best

  I have taken the notion that physical therapy should be done outdoors when the weather permits.  Not only are you exercising those muscles but you are breathing fresh air and have the added bonus of watching the wildlife.  That said, I take my little weights out to the garden to indulge in the act of healing.  This is perhaps as "holistic" healing as it gets.  The body, mind, spirit and emotions can become in perfect balance within the confines of the Small Gardens.  I am a firm believer that it takes all of these to come together before true healing can be obtained.  Besides, I would much rather be outside even if it involves therapy.

  This morning before beginning the routine, I put out a bit of bird seed for my fine feathered friends.  It only took a few moments before a beautiful male cardinal alighted on the garden bench holding seed.  Ahh, my sweet friend has come to visit!  Then, another cardinal came to eat.  My first thought was that this was the male's ladylove but, on closer inspection, I realized that this was a juvenile bird.  Daddy Cardinal was teaching his offspring where to find food.  The brightly colored male did not feed the youngster but made a big fuss over picking seeds from the plank.  The youngster sat cheeping and fluttering its wings but to no avail.  Father knew best.  Let the youngster learn to eat by itself.  Finally. the little one gave up hope of being fed and started eating on its own.

  Seeing this interaction brought smiles.  Not only was the father bird teaching his offspring where to find food but he felt safe enough to bring his little one to the feeder.  From my vantage point of 6 feet away, I was delighted to view the birds and felt honored that I was trusted.  This, my friends, added to that emotional care...now if only the physical therapy was that easy.

  As a little note here, juvenile cardinals greatly resemble the females and it is somewhat difficult to distinguish which is which.  The easiest method is to check the bill.  A female has the bright red "cardinal" bill whereas a juvenile has a grayish or almost black bill.   

Welcome to Puddle Pond

  Four weeks....just four weeks ago, I was in the midst of creating Pebble Creek and renovating Puddle Pond.  These two features of the yard make use of the drains to capture water from the rooftop.  Instead of letting the runoff wash gullies in the yard, I dug a trench, laid in pond lining and filled it with gravel.  This I called Pebble Creek.  With the help of a pond pump located in Puddle Pond and a long hose running the length of the "creek" water is recycled to make it appear as if the creek is actually running.  Along about halfway, a small foot bridge crosses Pebble Creek and allows for passage into the Small Gardens.  Since falling on bad health just as I completed Pebble Creek, this area has become my new domain.  It is where I must do my healing and I am fully appreciative of the hard work that went in to creating my special place.  I had pushed myself to create the space so I figure that I have every right to call myself Queen of the Small Gardens.  It was my doing and now I shall take refuge here.  

  While basking in the sunshine this morning, I saw that the frogs and toads that visit the gardens nightly have been busy.  Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny tadpoles are in Puddle Pond.  This makes me happy as I know that the project can be considered a success if the critters feel at home in it.  Most folks would have dumped some fancy goldfish or tropical fish in the little pond but it suits me fine to have local critters here.  The frogs are just as adorable and they help out in the gardens by eating a lot of unwanted pests.

  Puddle Pond is a delightful place to watch my little tadpoles as they grow and change to froglets!  It is only about 18 inches deep so the clear waters allow me to view the babies with ease.  Ahh, a bit of hard work has paid off.  I feel rewarded.

The Handsome Prince!

  Yesterday, I found the fiery dragon in the garden.  As Queen of the Small Gardens, his presence elated me.  The protection of the garden plants rendered by a green anole is not to be scoffed at by mere humans!  The fiery dragon was welcomed and encouraged to live a long and happy life here.  The baby lizard is welcome to nestle down in the chrysanthemums any time he wishes!

  This morning's find was not a dragon but a handsome prince in disguise!  If you read faerie tales at all, you know that all frogs have that possibility of being an bewitched prince!  Yes, a quite lovely frog refused to move out of the pathway during my early morning stroll.  As I meandered the Small Gardens near the Puddle Pond, I nigh on stepped upon the poor critter!  This fine creature was also protecting the gardens as it was plucking caterpillars from the herbs!  What a handsome prince he was indeed!

  Since my queendom still is limited to the Small Gardens, I have found that more and more of my critter friends are moving nearer the gardens.  Frogs, snakes, lizards, turtles, toads, birds, squirrels, coons and fiddler crabs can be found scurrying about under the heavy leaves.  This is most likely due to the recent spate of rainstorms that have occurred over the past few weeks.  The nigh on daily rains have animals seeking dry spots.  Personally, however, since I am having to live in a make-believe world to overcome boredom, I prefer to think these fine friends are coming to visit me.  As Queen, I can do that.

Puddle Pond is Back!

  The hard work is paying off.  I am finally starting to see results from about a week of shoveling gravel, digging holes and running tubing.   I had decided to dig out the gutter drain and turn it into a "fake" creek with a small pool at the end.  Since we live on a hill, getting the water to run into the tiny pond was easy enough but digging the gravel drain to put in a liner was a ton of heavy work.  Old ladies should not be doing heavy work.  I found out this after just the first day!  Every muscle in my body was sore!  Even muscles that I did not know I had were sore!!  The days after that initial go were not too bad.  I guess I became used to hurting and did not feel it as bad. 

  All of this hard work came about because of a sweet friend.  Ann came by with a gift of a garden sign dubbing the place "Ruthie's Refuge".  Well, you cannot have a sign calling something a refuge without it at least being a soothing place to be.  I have long wanted my little "babbling brook" back ever since it stopped flowing several years ago.  The liner went bad in what I called "Puddle Pond" and I had no time nor energy to replace it.  Ann's encouragement kicked me in gear and things are getting accomplished finally.  

  Now, all that is needed is the aesthetic touches that will bring this part of the yard to life.  A bit of lighting, some flowering plants and maybe a pretty bird feeder are next on the list to find their way into the "Refuge".  Then, I can pull up my comfy wicker chair and enjoy being in my own little happy spot.

But I AM Social Distancing!

  Social media is a funny thing.  People who would ordinarily never seem crass can come out with some of the most unbelievable statements.  The other day, I was reprimanded for going fishing.  "You are supposed to be social distancing!  Too many people just do not listen.  Stop going out."  Well, to put it bluntly, I was shocked.  I thought I was social distancing as no one comes to the Bayou since this whole mess started.  In fact, very few folks venture down here, in the first place.  Social distancing has never been a problem for me from the git-go.    Of course, I have to give the person the benefit of the doubt as perhaps there was a misconception of where I live.  Granted, I do have neighbors but not "near" neighbors.  Other than a brother whose property adjoins ours on the west and some people I do not know on the east (on the other side of the Bayou), my only neighbors are critters.

  It tickled me to think that my friend refused to believe that by going fishing, I was actually following rules.  Not only was I far from anyone while fishing, it kept me from going to the grocery store!  The pier is my happy place.  It is one of the things that keeps me sane..at least somewhat! When there, I can literally feel miles away from everyone.   I find peace, happiness and occasionally a redfish for supper.  As for my "social media" friend, it is all good.  It would take something far worse to cause me anger.  In any case where folks do provoke me enough, I simply remove myself from any and all correspondence and call it a day.  Bam!  Problem solved.  It is far easier and better for the mind.

Mr. PJ's Happy Place!

  My greenhouse is one of my favorite places.  I consider it a "Happy Place" where I can go to escape the world for a bit.  I leave behind all of the trappings of everyday life and go out to putter about the place for a bit.  Puttering has become a lost art in this fast-paced world.  I can putter all day and be happy in doing it.  Today, I did just that only, this time, that puttering was actually accomplishing something.  I was decorating the greenhouse as part of the Clue Hunt on the Bayou.  It was fun!  No phone.  No laptop.  No interruptions.

  Mr. PJ, the old dog, joined me in the greenhouse.  He did not putter.  He snoozed.  He was blissfully restful while there.  It has been a long time since the old dog has found pleasure in anything but, today, he seemed happy.  Mr. PJ has found his "Happy Place".  We seem to share the idea that there is something magically peaceful about that old building.  It holds secrets of how to relax!  

  While Mr. PJ napped on his rug in the corner of the greenhouse, I carefully hung bird cages, moved plants and dusted the entire place.  Come Friday night, the greenhouse will become an aviary that will house dozens of fake crows, owls, ravens and a few doves and canaries.  It is this motley crew of birds that I found at thrift stores that will hold evidence of a murder mystery party!  In the meantime, however, Mr. PJ will relax and enjoy the mystical place otherwise known as a greenhouse where the sunshine is warming, the lack of noise is peaceful and he is getting extra attention!

Where, Oh, Where Did My Roof Go??

  I can see clearly now...the roof is gone!  Ok, so that is not exactly how the song goes but it is how my day went.  The roof is gone.  There is nothing there!  Yep, the greenhouse roof has vanished and I can see all the lovely blue sky above me.  The roof did not actually just disappear. Son removed all of the old plastic greenhouse roofing because that stuff is terrible!  In just a couple of years, the sun had dry-rotted the entire thing to the point that it was full of holes.  I was getting more rain inside the greenhouse than was falling outside.  For months now, we have pondered and searched for a reasonable replacement without going back with the same junk.  I refuse to have a roof that cracks due to sunshine!  My goodness!  You expect to have a greenhouse in the sun. That is the point of having one...to bring the sunshine inside for plants. But, as I said, I refused to use the same stuff so we compromised. Plywood and roofing material are being installed and I have been promised a few grow lights to add to what light the windows do not supply.  We are investigating solar powered grow lights so no wiring will be required!

  The greenhouse is one of my happy places.  I can retreat to the solitude of the greenhouse whenever things seem to get a bit hectic.  Winter or summer the place stays comfortable.  In winter, the sunshine beams into the many windows and warms the interior nicely.  During the summer months, the breeze off of the Bay wafts through the open windows and keeps it cool.  When Son built it, he designed it with those things in mind.  The building is angled to receive optimal sunshine and breeze!  

  Early mornings will often find Mark and me enjoying our first cup of coffee in the comfort of the greenhouse.  A comfy wicker chair, being surrounded by plants and hearing the birds singing make for a great place to start the day!  Now with the new roof being installed, things will be even more enjoyable!

As Good As It Gets

  Occasionally, someone will ask just why I live like I do.  "How can you stay on the Bayou everyday and not go places?" is one of the questions that is thrown my way on a regular basis. Folks obviously think living here is a bad thing.  Perhaps it is to others but it suits me just fine.  People question my lack of "modern conveniences" like air conditioning and central heat units.  They question my raising a garden and catching most of our food.  They question everything from my clothes, my craft clutter, my antique furniture, the dusty books on the shelves and my habit of adopting any stray animal that comes to the Bayou.  Personally, I do not care.  It is none of their business how I live my life.  I do not pretend to fret over their lives and I wish they would just ignore mine.  It does make me ponder, though, just how empty others lives must be if they have to "fix" mine with their suggestions, hints or their unsought advice.

  To my way of thinking, I live in a small piece of paradise.  I awake to the most beautiful music of birds singing, I tend the garden and get to watch the miracle of life spring from the soil, and I am lulled to sleep by the sound of waves gently rustling in the marsh and frogs serenading me from the pond.  I fish when I want, eat healthy, homegrown foods and have the liberty to create pieces of art when the whim strikes me. Instead of exhaust fumes from cars and factories, I breathe the aromas of jasmine, wisteria and magnolias.  I am not stressed by media overkill of every happening of a world that I cannot control.  In other words, I am happy just how things are.  For those who cannot understand the Bayou life, I have just a few words.  You have not found peace in your own life if you have to give unsolicited advice to others in how to change theirs.  

  Yesterday morning, I was sitting in the garden reflecting on just how amazingly wonderful things are.  Blessings abound to those who can see them.  I am where I want to be. I have found my peaceful place.  Have you?