backyard – Little Stories

Softening your edges

May 18, 2017 AbbyLeave a comment

I haven’t been putting thoughts down here lately, because, as you can see, we got a used patio table for the back deck. And when I’m not at work or slaving away at calligraphy in the attic, I’m sitting at this table. Telling Eden not to dig more holes in the yard and reading Cheeveresque novels or feminist screeds. As one does in mid-May. As one does.

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To look hard at something, to look through it, is to transform it, / Convert it into something beyond itself, to give it grace. — Charles Wright, from “Looking Around”

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My fundamental opinions have not changed. But the older I get, the more likely I am to be willing to hear “the other side.” This seems like a simple virtue. I loathe the common trend toward censorship, toward the declaration of opposing opinions as heresy.

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Thanks to my work colleagues, and Wei, we’ve been quite interested in the enneagram recently. Yes, personality typing can seem fruitless and limiting (I was skeptical at first and resistant to even reading about it), but this system is far deeper and broader than others I have dabbled in (StrengthFinders, Myers-Briggs). We’ve found it enlightening for our marriage and for navigating the principal ways that we relate to other people. We probably refer to it too much in conversation now, though, and are learning how to tone it down. (For those in the know, I am most likely a 5 with strong 1 tendencies.)

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Here, look at Guion. Isn’t he cute.

Easter and family

March 29, 2016 Abby8 Comments

A good portion of my family came to see us on Easter weekend — to celebrate birthdays, to labor in our yard, and to provide general merriment. I can’t get over how much fun these people are sometimes. I felt like my Gran when they returned to their respective homes. She, normally of the stoic and sarcastic temperament, would always turn her face and cry a little when family left. This is what I did for a moment on Sunday afternoon, but I know we’ll see each other again soon. (And, ideally, in Europe.)

Spring is finally here, and I am grateful.

The big project: Adding pea gravel to our little fenced garden area. We will eventually add two more raised beds, but we wanted to go ahead and finish the gravel before we depart for the summer.

Before:

And after:

Didn’t the boys do a marvelous job? I’m so happy with how it turned out. To finish it up, I want to find some low-growing, flowering perennials to put around the edges.

The world being what it is

October 20, 2015 Abby2 Comments

An October morning — The backyard on an October morning.

We expect Armageddon; the Bible has trained us well. We assume either annihilation or salvation, perhaps both. Millennarian beliefs are as old as time; the apocalypse has always been at hand. People have lain quaking in their beds waiting for the year one thousand, have cowered at the passage of comets, have prayed their way through eclipses. Our particular anxieties would seem on the face of things more rational, but they have an inescapable ancestry. The notion that things go on forever is recent, and evidently too recent to attract much of a following. The world being what it is, it has always been tempting to assume that something would be done about it, sooner or later.

— Moon Tiger, Penelope Fitzgerald

Things to be happy about:

I am reading again, which makes me feel like myself. I am also reading with the drive to read everything that I own but haven’t read yet. This means I have a lot of formidable, giant tomes to get through (Edith Grossman’s translation of Don Quixote, Bleak House, Tristram Shandy, The Charterhouse of Parma, Tom Jones, The Ambassadors, The Gulag Archipelago). Sheesh. None of those sound even remotely fun.
Celebrating Lulu, the bride-to-be, this weekend!
The weather.
Fumiko found a good home! Our dear friends Ethan and Hannah have adopted her into their flock. Here is a photo of her new siblings checking her out (Fumiko is the tiny one in the cage):

We are hopeful that she will survive, but regardless, we are grateful for kind, generous friends, taking in our lone hen. We are going to try again with the backyard chicken gambit next year.

Lead me to water

May 8, 2015 Abby2 Comments

Garden updates, 4 May 2015 — Columbine in the front yard finally bloomed.

Some of our best friends in town are getting married tomorrow, and we are flush with excitement, almost as if we were getting married again. We are so happy for them and we have been anticipating this day for years now. Guion reported that when someone asked him to make plans this week, his first thought was, “Oh, I can’t do anything this week; it’s wedding week.”

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One of my chief pleasures is eating lunch during the work week on the back deck, with the dogs milling around the yard and the carpenter bees and wasps congregating near the table. I think I have already written about this, but this practice provides my mental and emotional state with so much energy and relief. It is probably just the benefit of being outside, after four hours in a cube, staring at a screen, but my outdoor lunches can improve the gloomiest mood. I eat slowly; I drink a LaCroix; I read a novel; I throw a stick for Edie; I watch the chickens; I listen to the birds; I feel like a million bucks. (And then I go back to the office.)

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We saw Sufjan play in Richmond this week (a moving, excellent show; I’m always in the mood for him). One of the memorable, nonmusical delights of the evening was spotting an old friend from college up in the balcony. We texted from afar, confirming our identities, and I waved repeatedly. We shouted to each other briefly, him from the balcony down to me in the orchestra level, but we weren’t able to meet up afterward. Still, just seeing him filled me with this satisfactory nostalgia. Here we are, after so much time has passed; happy and complete in our adult lives.

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I keep a little notebook now, to ease myself back into the practice of keeping some form of a handwritten diary. After about 16 years of daily journaling, I abruptly stopped once I got married. It was as if keeping a diary wasn’t important anymore, now that I had a spouse — which admittedly is a very odd psychological conclusion. But I’d like to get back into the practice, if only to keep up the habit of composing sentences by hand. Even if they’re not very good sentences. The notebook is a hodgepodge of loose diary entries, vocabulary words, and notes on what I’m reading.

I am usually writing about what I am reading there, but I realized the other day that I am only taking notes on fiction. I mentioned this to an acquaintance, and he remarked that that was a very odd habit. “Why wouldn’t you take notes on nonfiction instead?” he asked. “To, you know, remember actual facts and information?” I didn’t have an answer then, but I think I record fiction passages and resultant thoughts because I am often so much more moved by a novel than by a factual account. I am impressed by the beauty, and that is the sensation I don’t want to forget. Data will ebb and flow. But it’s the art that’s worth remembering.

January thoughts

January 13, 2014 Abby1 Comment

Even though my books are still in boxes and there is no art on the walls, I am finally beginning to feel like the new house is ours. Maybe it’s the familiar tumbleweeds of German shepherd fur that adorn every room, but it’s starting to feel like home.

Don't make me go play with that puppy — Pyrrha, being bashful.

The bane of my existence right now is the backyard, which turns into a veritable swamp when it rains — a swamp of red clay pools that the new puppy* utterly delights in. (*Right: We got a second dog! Adopted our foster puppy and named her Eden. She is a joyful little terror. So bright and happy; opposite personality of my shy, sensitive Pyrrha.)

If you have any great solutions to a marshy yard — aside from pouring concrete over the entire thing, which I am often tempted to do — please let me know. I had such high aspirations for having a beautiful house. Now I just have a den of dog hair and clay-stained floors and walls. It is good, though; I am learning to surrender my material possessions to the Hands of the Lord, who points to the dogs and says, “This is why you can’t have nice things.” (It’s training ground for future offspring, right? I’d like to have a competition between a toddler and our two dogs to see who could destroy a room the fastest.)

On the brighter side, I enjoy practicing calligraphy 50% more now that I have A Room of My Own. I like to escape there from time to time. Pyrrha is the only one who is allowed to join me. She’s been more jealous of me since adding Eden to the household, and she likes to be reminded of her top position in my esteem.

This little room brings me great joy. #studio #aroomofonesown — My studio.

I am also reading fiction again and deriving great pleasure from it. I just finished Adam Johnson’s fantastic novel, The Orphan Master’s Son, which most recently won the Pulitzer. I rarely read books that are both action-packed AND superbly well-written. (And darkly funny!) It’s great. I recommend it.

I also continue to marvel that I was lucky enough to get to marry Guion. He is a real winner. Par example: In the past year of our marriage, he has morphed into a gourmet chef. I don’t even want to go out to restaurants anymore, because the food they serve me pales into comparison to what Guion can make. And these are primarily meat-free dishes, too; we’ve continued our aspirations to mostly meat-free eating, and I’ve felt better for it. We sit at our refurbished farm table (thanks, family!), light some candles, and keep the dogs at bay.

Main floor tour (in throes of post-move disarray)

December 13, 2013December 11, 2013 Abby3 Comments

Clearly, I am not one to touch up photos before posting them, much less the subject of the photos themselves — in this case, our still unpacked and scattered new home. But I feel like these photos will be encouraging to me in a year or two, when I look back at them and think, “Wow, what lazy bums we once were.” At least, I hope that’s my reaction.

We couldn’t have done any of this without our totally amazing family, who sacrificed their weekends to come help us move, refinish furniture, clean, and paint many rooms (banishing traces of the ubiquitous yellowy cream!). They are all rockstars, and I want to cry just thinking about all they did for us. Bowing down with gratitude for Mom, Dad, Mike, Windy, Kelsey, Alex, Win, and Tracy! And to the Blue House Boys who helped us move and paint: Phil, Sam, Ethan, and Brooks — you rock. We are the luckiest.

That said, here are some photos of the main floor of our new house — exactly as it looks right now.

Living room in disarray — Chaos in the living room. Painted it white (including the fireplace); I think it looks approximately a million times better.

Fireplace painting in progress! #movingweekend — In the midst of fireplace painting. Many thanks to Tracy for her help!

First fire in the fireplace — First fire. Thanks to Aunt B for the screen!

View into kitchen from dining room — View from dining room, also used to be yellowy cream; now pale gray.

Dining room — Refinished Pratt family table! With many thanks to Dad, Mike, Win, and linseed oil.

Pyrrha's room/nursery — Pyrrha’s room. There is nothing else in here but this random stuff.

Please stay alive, little buddy! Lemon tree with one lemon.

Pyrrha's dominion — View of backyard from deck.

There is lots of potential here, and I am currently feeling very overwhelmed by it all. To calm myself, I am internally repeating the truth that it is OK to have mostly empty rooms. It is OK to have mostly empty (scattered) rooms. It is OK…

Oh, hi

October 3, 2013 Abby7 Comments

These just bloomed — Little mystery flowers in the backyard.

Apparently I forgot about this blog.

I’ve been so absorbed with real life — and the very serious, very important work of dog blogging — that I seem to have lost interest in this little space. I may wander back from time to time.

General Life Updates

We have to move out of our weird, happy, little farmhouse–hovel, as the landlords (who really are wonderful humans, let it be said) are putting it on the market. This is very sad, but it might also be very promising, because now we’re thinking about buying a house of our own. Pray for us. We have no idea what we’re doing.
Guion got a job!
I’ve had this stupid, lingering cold for a week now, which made me miss out on the family camping expedition.
We’re taking a hiatus from fostering dogs, because the housing situation is up in the air. This makes me sad, but not as sad as it makes Pyrrha, who really misses having a live-in playmate. I think she’s fundamentally bored with just the two of us humans.
I’m re-reading The Sound and the Fury, and guys, I am loving fiction again, after being rather immune to its powers for months and months (thanks a lot, David Foster Wallace; you broke me). I have also learned the secret to Faulkner: SLOW DOWN. To a snail’s pace. And then you shall love him.
I’m throwing out most colors in my wardrobe.
So OVER the government.

What’s new with you?

Orchid is still blooming — Orchid, still going strong.

Dogs and plants

June 3, 2013June 3, 2013 Abby1 Comment

These are the two things that keep us busy these days.

Gimme dat stick — Pyrrha and Rainer (foster).

Handsome Rainer is looking for a home! Tell everyone you know!

Guion tending to his hops — Guion tends to his hops.

Kiwi vine is really thriving — Kiwi is monstrous and thriving. But still no kiwi.

Anniversary peonies from the neighbors — Peonies for our anniversary, from the neighbors.

Crassula ovata (jade plant) on the kitchen table.

Succulent friends on the organ — Succulents on the organ.

What’s been occupying your life this summer*? (I’m calling it “summer” now because it’s been 85–90°F every day this past week.)

Weekend heat

June 11, 2012June 11, 2012 Abby2 Comments

We had a wonderfully productive and busy weekend. We spend too much money at Lowe’s, now that we have this prodigious garden, but it always feels justified somehow. (More things need to be grown! Grow all the things!) We bought those bright red chairs on Saturday and they were worth every penny; that’s my new summer reading spot. Pyrrha seems to like the chairs, too, even though they look suspiciously tasty.

We went to this event with Pyrrha’s rescue at a local vineyard on Sunday and sat under a hot tent and sweated with a pack of 10 or more German shepherds. What is it about seeing a bunch of dogs of the same breed together that is so thrilling? I don’t know, but it was fun and Pyrrha seemed to recognize her former foster pack.

P. is also starting to fall in love with Guion, too. It took her some time, but I think they will be inseparable very soon. (Just so long as he doesn’t replace me in her hierarchy of affections, I’m cool with it.)

Cuties. Guion and Pyrrha at Keswick Vineyards.

In my annual summer tradition, I’ve started the fifth and sixth volumes of Proust, The Captive and The Fugitive. It’s a little hard to believe that this is my fifth year with Proust and that I shall nobly lay him aside next year. (What will happen in years seven and eight? Infinite Jest and then The Pale King. Why, yes, I do like to plan ahead.) I like to talk about Proust a lot, especially in the summers when he is thick in my brain, but I shouldn’t. He’s easily the most pretentious author to name-drop. He’s almost never appropriate conversational fodder. Poor Prousty. (Meanwhile, I think “Marcel” would be a nice name for a bi-color or all-black German shepherd. Next dog?)