Project 1: Done?

 

Well, as it turns out, I am either incapable of, or unwilling to create the outdoor oasis of my dreams.  It would seem that lush foliage is expensive, and I’m just not ready to spend hundreds on a project just yet.  But I did complete the project, and although my previous self would have declined to publish pictures, fearing that since it wasn’t “perfect,” it shouldn’t be seen, my current self (or the self I am striving to become) realizes that it’s a vast improvement over the former patio, and I should be proud of it.  It’s really nice not to be limited by the prison of perfectionism.  I hope this a trend, because I’m much happier in the land of “good enough,” at least when it comes to home improvement projects of the aesthetic kind. 

And that’s all this one was, right?  Or was it?  It’s certainly not a load bearing wall, or insulation, or water proofing.  But it was much more than just a pretty project.  I got sweaty, and dirty, and I moved and cleaned heavy things.  I really felt that I was accomplishing something.  So, in a way, it was a mental or emotional weather proofing.  If I can be confident that I can take care of things on my own, then I don’t “need” someone around, such as a man.  If I am whole on my own, then any man that I may choose to bring into the picture in the future is an accoutrement to my already complete ensemble.  As a side note, I broke the garage door this weekend, (the how is not important, as it is highly embarassing to me) and tonight, I repaired the door all on my own.  I am feeling very “Super Woman-like” and will be shopping for my bullet proof bracelets soon.  I’m already on the road to self-reliance.

So there.

And now, without further ado, is my new happy place……

The new view from my kitchen.  It’s so inviting, and waaaay better than the rotted out grill that used to be there.  And see the new hummingbird feeder?  I hope they find it soon!

And here is the view of the seating area as I exit the sliding door from the kitchen.  Can you see the margarita?  It’s already a happy place! AAAHHHHH……

Here is a view from the backyard area, except in closer.  I wasn’t able to decorate the entire patio, but from about halfway in, the effect is close to what I envisioned…

This is the view towards the backyard, and as you can see, there is about half the length of the patio that is a little bare. 

Another view of my seating area.  This one kind of captures what I was hoping for, a bunch of color and texture.  Can you see the frog art piece on the fence?  It’s “whimsical” and the previous me would never have gone for that, but now, I think it’s awesome.  A little iron, strong and long lasting, and a little colored glass, bright and happy.  All the things I want to be.

So, there you have it.  I have officially “completed” project 1, but I am not going to stop working on it.  I am going to get more plants over time, and transplant and propagate new ones from existing growth in my yard.  I am also going to replace the grill soon so that I can do some grilling.  That was always my exes job, and I loved the taste, so I am going to learn how to do it now.  I think by the summer, this patio is going to be the vision I have in my head and a frequent place to hang out.  But until that time comes, I’m pretty darned pleased!  I sat out there this evening and it was just wonderful.  I relaxed after an exhausting week and weekend, and just felt the stress melting away. 

And tomorrow morning, I will be out there bright and early with my coffee and the paper.  I look forward to having some guests in the near future!

Maggie

Project 1: Clean Slate

It’s so nice to be able to start again from a clean slate.  I wish life was like that.  Say there were a part of your life that you had ignored, or failed to tend, and it had become dull and dirty and full of life choking weeds.  If you could just clean it out and start over and none of the previous mess would haunt you or darken your days, well, that would be nice.  If that were possible, then perhaps marriages wouldn’t fail, and bridges wouldn’t be burned and relationships wouldn’t sour.  If people ignored their health and trashed their bodies, then they could just start over with tight buns and no saggy “wings” on their upper arms.

But it’s not possible to just clean out and start over with relationships or life, unless you’re willing to sell everything, move to another city and start fresh with no friends or baggage.  Which actually sounds nice, as long as the new town were a beach town, and instead of no friends, I still had all mine, and the baggage contained bikinis and sun tan oil.  But I digress….

So far this week, I have spent a lot of time cleaning out the patio area.  I pulled all the weeds from between the pavers, which was no easy task.  I have sprayed weed killer in hopes that the weeds wouldn’t return and I removed all the old leaves left over from last fall.  Ahhhh.  Manual labor is always so very satisfying to me.  It’s so easy to see the results as I move along, and then at the end, I really feel as though I’ve accomplished something.  Below is a photo of the patio now, in all it’s naked glory:

And here is the view from my kitchen.  I feel better already!

I also spent some time shopping for the things that would make my newly clean patio a true oasis.  Below is a sneak peek at the items that I found!  However will this pile of summery things be arranged to ensure a relaxing oasis for your intrepid blogger?  Just wait til you see!

I also took a picture of my yard to show you the many plants in bloom that may make an appearance on the patio.  I love the purple mini-lillies on the hill:

It’s really rolling along now, but rain is forecast for the next two days, so my progress may be impeded a bit.  No worry, I am repotting plants in the garage and sketching ideas for the final look, and once the weekend comes, with it’s predicted beautiful weather I will be able to quickly put together my outdoor oasis.  I am thinking that after a big weekend of Easter celebrations and visiting family, I may enjoy dinner out there Sunday evening.  I am feeling happier already….

Productively yours,

Maggie

Well, I hope this works….

I have read a lot of self-help books lately.  I mean a lot.  So many that I could stock the entire self-help section at Barnes & Noble.  If they hadn’t been run out of business in my town by the economy and e-readers.  And why have I read so many books of this variety lately?  Well, I have had a run of bad luck in the past two years that the writers of Greek Tragedies would have literally vibrated with excitement to have conceived of and written about.

Two years ago, I quit my job as a successful sales rep to pursue my dreams of “finding my bliss.”  I was good at sales, but couldn’t find happiness with the day-to-day responsibilities, and so, with the support of my husband, decided to take some time to look at other options.  I was considering lots of jobs and trying them out with no real pressure to settle on one.  Several months later, he came to me and said that we should begin “trying.”  I had been talking about my ticking biological clock for a while, and he had been a little slower to come around.  But this news made me think he had truly reflected and changed his heart, and I felt that things were slowly falling into place.  I was happier, more relaxed, and things seemed good.

Unfortunately, four months after we began “trying,” my husband sat me down to tell me that he didn’t want children, didn’t love me anymore and wanted a divorce, among other, even more hurtful things.  I felt the immediate impact, as if I had been kicked, square in the teeth.  I asked why, pleaded for more discussion, cried and begged.  But in the end, his cold refusals to even discuss it shattered me, and I got in my car and left.  I didn’t know where to go, so I did the only thing I knew to do.  I called my sister, and as all family should do, she said “come here right now.”  And so I drove to family, and still didn’t believe that I was going to be a divorcee.

But I was going to be a divorcee.  And two days after my husband wrecked my whole world, I found out that I was pregnant.  Our efforts, dubious on his part though they were, had been successful, and I was now faced with the threat of being a single mother.  After all, he had made it clear that we wanted different things, and for him, that meant, painfully, that he didn’t want children.   When I told him of the joyful news, his reaction was not exactly the stuff of dreams.  He was stunned, but not so stunned that he couldn’t cuss and question and generally act the part of the douchebag that he was showing himself to be.  He left, leaving a note saying that he “needed a little time to think about this,” and that he’d be in touch in “a few weeks.”   Yep, a real prince charming.

From that point on, I had begun to recover a bit, or at least bury the pain of my failed marriage, so that I could focus on growing this miracle child within me.  But on the day that I was to visit the OBGYN for the gender scan, a spot was found on the baby’s heart.  The doctor assured me that it could be nothing, that her own children had shown the spots and been born healthy, that I shouldn’t worry until I saw a specialist.  So, I tried not to worry, but three weeks later, in the office of a perinatologist, my son was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect.  I was warned that the implications could include everything from a normal birth and a minor surgery, all the way to heart transplant or even death in-utero.  I was dizzy with the gravity of what I was hearing, and in the place where my husband should have been, was my mother.  Tiny and silent, with her hand steadfast and firm on my own, she was keeping me from crumbling.

The exact CHD wasn’t diagnosed for a few more weeks, but from that point on, I became convinced that God had forsaken me, and my son.  We had been abandoned by the man who had vowed to love me forever, and were now in danger of never even meeting. 

This blog will reflect on the happenings in our life, from his birth a year ago this week, ten weeks premature, to his second birthday, a year from now.  I will describe his struggle from the tiny, fragile start, and then I will discuss how I am making each week in the present a step toward regaining our footing and finding happiness.  Actually, I will chronicle how I find happiness.  My son is the happiest, most loving boy you will ever meet.  He bears no visible scars, and it would seem, no emotional scars from the pain and terror of his beginning-to-life. 

I am not so lucky.  I am still grieving the loss of my marriage, because I wasn’t able to do so in the moment.  I was always focused on growing, and then caring for my special baby.  This year, I will complete projects, experience joys and challenge beliefs that are holding me back, in an effort to find the bliss that I couldn’t find in a job.  And I hope that you’ll join me and, hopefully, find more happiness in your own life.  I look forward to the journey.

Timidly yours,

Maggie