Oh, btw, I'm no longer classified as a Secretary III; I'm now an Office Assistant Associate. It makes me feel like I'm working at Walmart. What's wrong with being a secretary, please? Anyway, since they changed the names of the classifications, everyone who was on a transfer list has to re-test. I haven't felt confident enough to set up an appointment.
A retired faculty member with whom I was on acquaintance terms stopped by to get some things, and asked when I was going to start a new career. I just gaped at her. It reminded me of the scene in Aliens where Ripley approaches Sgt. Apone and says "I feel like a fifth wheel around here. Is there anything I can do?" And he says, "I don't know, is there anything you can do?" Well, Ripley could answer him immediately and practically by demonstrating her skill with the loader. Me--I don't know if there's anything I can do. That I could turn into a job, that is.
Well, on to more pleasant things. The downspouts have been cleaned out, and while the gutters on the south side of the house have holes and are therefore leaking, there is still water coming out of the run-off spouts on both the north and south sides, rather than making lakes by the foundation. This makes me happy, since it's been raining all day.
Oh, the earthquake! I'm considerably north and some west of it, and while several people said they felt it, I didn't. And I was even awake at the time, darn it! It had gotten really hot in the bedroom, and I'd gotten up to find a screen I could sort of temporarily insert into the bedroom window so we could breathe. The dogs were restless and panting, but I figured it was just because they were as warm as I was. Students said they felt the 10:30 aftershock, but I didn't feel that one, either. Back in 1985 or '86, I was living in a house with a split-level entry, and a hanging not-quite-chandelier that hung over the stairs. I was sitting in the living room and happened to look up and I thought--hm, I'd better get my eyes c hecked; it looks like that chandelier is swaying! Then I heard the decorative glass bottles I had in a display case rattling and thought, hey, Illinois gets earthquakes, doesn't it? And sure enough, we'd had a little quake, and my insurance agent instantly sent out letters urging me to buy earthquake insurance (which I didn't). But that was late afternoon/early evening, when I'm most awake, so I noticed it. :) My sister is closer to the epicenter and said it woke her and her husband--she thought it was their dog scratching, then realized it felt all wrong for that.
Here, as promised (or threatened, depending on your point of view, I guess) are some garden pictures:
It was sunny that evening, and the daffodils caught the light and just glowed in the shade like bright gold stars. The sparse-looking green stuff is sweet woodruff, which I love and which I hope is not affected by the new sun patterns (now that the trees to the southwest are gone). I would like to paint the garage a sort of faded grey-blue-lavender (one of those "I'll know it when I see it" colors), and if I get enough sun, plant a climbing yellow rose where the trellis is. I'm not quite sure what's going into the circular bed to the left--possibly another rose or two, with underplanting. It will depend on the new sun patterns. At least I know the asiatic lilies will be happy.
Blues: Chionodoxa, siberian squill, and nepeta in the lower right-hand corner, which will have blue flowers. The squill is two years old and spreading in a modest way. It is the most incredible intense blue, and I have hopes it will live long and prosper and give me great pools of blue.
Puppy blues. Can you see him? There's a little ceramic GSD statue up to its puppy neck in chionodoxa there on the left. I need to color his nose in with a magic marker; it got chipped somehow, and now he always looks like a bird has pooped on his nose! I like the chionodoxa--it's an enthusiastic spreader and every year there are pools like this one, plus a scattering of single flowers which tend to form the nuclei of future pools. Plus it has nice grass-like foliage. It's in the white/silver shade garden, but oh well, not much else is growing there at the moment, so I let it have its day.
A line of hyacinths (and a couple of daffodils). Obviously I need to fill in. I'm passionate about white hyacinths, but they do come in so many other beautiful colors that perhaps I could add some rose, pinks, and shades of blue, punctuated with daffodils. Actually, I'm meditating a shrub border along this wall--bridal wreath spirea is what I have my heart set on, but I'm not sure it would get enough sun, so I'm researching shrubs that are in the 5-6 foot range, have a round shape, scented flowers, and (if possible) nice foliage that turns colorful in the fall. Don't know if such a creature exists, but I'll be browsing plant catalogs. I can't afford an entire wall full, but I could certainly plant them one at a time--and move the spring bulbs that are now against the wall forward a couple of feet. I'm thinking of adding also some nice little round hummocks of box and perhaps at either end the fastigiate holly Sky Pencil. I've about given up on growing anything up the trellis by the back door, so I could replace it with the holly.
The angel's new home. I'm afraid it will be too sunny in her old home. Here she's kneeling in a bed of European ginger. I'm thinking of putting at least one white astilbe behind her, possibly also a dark heuchera like Plum Pudding This is the white/silver shade garden, so I need to work in plants that will set her off but go with the general theme. Backing her up with a couple of dark heucheras might be a good contrast with the other plants there.
A closer look at the angel. The blue is, of course, chionodoxa. And look at those hyacinths gleam in the background! There's a white clematis on one side of the trellis and St. Swithun, a pale pink rose, on the other. I'm planning on adding another curve to the bed here. At the moment it's dirt and weeds, so I might as well see if I can get some shade plants to grow there. I wonder how angry the ginger would be if I dug it up and moved it bodily? I'd like to have ferns growing beneath the tree, with the angel just in front of them (okay, maybe not dark-leaved heuchera, then!). If I move the edge of the garden to the north, I'll have to put taller plants like astilbe and ferns at the foot of the tree and move the ground covers forward. Casa Blanca lilies behind the astilbe and ferns.
I think it's a good sign that I'm thinking of garden things. This time last year I wasn't.
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