In Which I Channel Beatrix Potter and Write a Tale of The Two Mice in My Shed

If you’d rather I read this story to you (think of it as story time for grownups) click here:

Once upon a time there was a very useful garden shed; it was made of wood and painted red. It had no windows, but it had two big doors that stuck a little in humid weather.

The shed belonged to a blogger named CJ Hartwell.

CJ was a gardener, or at least she liked to say she was a gardener. Between you and me, she kinda let things go to seed.

One afternoon on a frosty October day, CJ decided it was time to pick the last of the apples on her apple tree. She put on her coat and her Isotoner gloves and walked out to her garden shed to get a ladder. For the apples were very high on the tree and she could not reach them.

First, she unlatched the big wooden doors and pulled them all the way open. Next, she pulled out her seldom used lawn mower and her even more seldom used rake. And who do you suppose she saw hiding behind the rake?

Why, it was none other than Ethan, who made the garden shed his home.

Ethan was a mouse.

cute mouse, drawing of mouse

Ethan looked at CJ; CJ looked at Ethan.

Ethan didn’t say anything because Ethan was a quiet, unassuming little mouse. CJ did say some things, but we will not repeat them here because some of the words were naughty, and good little boys and girls ought never to use them.

Ethan didn’t know what the fuss was about, for while the garden shed was a modest home, he did his mousy best to keep it tidy and clean. So he squeaked a soft little squeak, which was to say, “I’ve seen your house, lady. You think you can do better?”

Did it do any good? No! CJ stomped her feet on the floor making a terrible racket!

This frightened poor Ethan something awful. He called out to his very special lady friend, Tiffany, who had come home with Ethan after a romantic evening together in the woods.

At this particular moment, Tiffany was on CJ’s bicycle.

small mouse on bicycle

Mid-stomp, CJ saw Tiffany scurry down the bicycle. She garbled a few more choice words for now there were two mice!

Ethan called out to Tiffany, “Hey babe, over here!” and together they raced underneath the ladder that was leaning against the wall.

Quick as a flash, or rather stumbling in her haste, CJ put the mower and rake back in the shed and shut the doors, latching them tight. She said to herself, “Screw it! The apples can rot!”

Then she went inside her house and opened a bottle of red wine that she had bought at Costco for $8.99. She had two glasses, one for each mouse.

After her second glass, she decided mice in the shed were better than mice in the house, and she was very happy she had a cat in the house.

As for Ethan and Tiffany, they were very happy CJ left. They agreed the less they saw of her the better, but Tiffany did enjoy a nice bike ride now and again.

Later that evening, Tiffany made a nice dinner of mushroom salad with a rotten apple compote. Ethan said it was the best meal he’d ever had.

Afterward they had consensual sex and fell asleep in the bed Ethan fashioned out of an empty box of Milk Duds.

drawing of mice in a bed

It was a busy day after all.

The end.

In Defense of Lazy Gardening

This morning as I was walking Dog, I passed by that house.

You know which one I mean, right? There’s one in your neighborhood too. It’s the one with the perfect yard.

Perfect yard

The grass is perfectly green, the bushes are perfectly shaped, the flowers look like they were planted with a ruler and level.

Walking by such a yard used to fill me with envy and shame, for I knew I had no chance of joining their anal-retentive ranks. Frankly, I was too dang lazy.

Since then, I’ve come to realize there are lessons to be learned by lazy gardeners. Highly important lessons. Lessons that can change lives!

Okay, I can tell you’re skeptical, so here are three such lessons from my own yard.

Continue reading “In Defense of Lazy Gardening”

Birds: Helpful Neighbors or Ruthless Overlords?

treeA three day weekend before me, I had one plan and one plan only: to move a tree.

To be specific, a volunteer tree that was growing in a small shaded area between our home and the back fence. Far too close to both home and fence.

After some careful research, I determined it was a silk tree – Albizia julibrissin – and that it would make a pretty little shade tree near our front entrance.

My dad was a great one for transplanting volunteer plants, and I think of him whenever I follow his practice. Although my success rate is nowhere near as good as his, I like to think I’m improving.

I also tend to think it will go much faster than it actually does, because I forget I live in Phoenix. Digging a hole in Phoenix is not for the faint of heart.

After 20 minutes, this is what I accomplished:

Continue reading “Birds: Helpful Neighbors or Ruthless Overlords?”

A Lazy Gardener Gets Lucky

As much as I like getting my hands dirty, you’d think I’d be a better gardener than I am. It’s not that I’m bad at it, per se. It’s more like I’m, well, hopelessly lazy. And I think the plants are catching on.

The last time I drove home from the nursery, I swear I heard whimpering from the seedlings in the backseat.

But sometimes I get lucky. Case in point: when I chose to plant a Lady Banks Rose.

I’ve tried growing roses before — oh, the wilted leaves and dead canes at my feet. It would shock you. But this girl just keeps growing and growing, despite my neglect. Sometimes I think to water her, but most of the time she’s on her own. And most of the time, she grows up the side of our house with her drab, grayish green leaves, hardly noticeable to anyone. Passed over for a dance, every time.

But then March comes, and the Lady puts all the other plants to shame:WP_20160304_16_06_30_Pro[1]

It just goes to show, sometimes the wallflower is the most interesting girl in the room. 🙂