Crowz Nest

Because it's time... as it was once before.

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Location: Port Murray, NJ

I'm a bit old to be starting out in life again, but that's where I am. Sadly. Or gladly. It's where I am. Come along. Watch the fun. Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Looking out my back door

When I moved into my house four years ago, my life was pretty much in tatters. I was among the walking wounded, for a number of reasons. I found the little (don't forget "cute and quaint") house in which I live, with a yard that was sufficient for my dogs, insufficient for my horse (despite my dreams to the contrary) and just about as much as I could handle on my own. It didn't seem perfect, but it was what I could afford, and as the farm where I lived was going to be closed on out-from-under me, I didn't have a lot of time to look further. I was tired, terrified, and on my own for the first time in my life.

I settled in. I coped. With the help of friends, I learned how to do things I'd never been required to do before in my life, ranging from dealing with "the system," navigating my way through the legalities and financial decisions of buying a home, learning how to fix whatever went wrong (even if that occasionally required hiring someone who knew how,) to getting down on my hands and knees in the dirt to weed, to plant. I'd grown up with brothers, and I'd married young, so there had always been men around to shovel the snow, to rake the leaves, to mow the lawn. Some of them did these things well; others not so well, but either way, my involvement with these activities was always voluntary, auxiliary, and nothing I ever had to do. And certainly, I'd never had to rely upon myself to get it all done. I told myself to grow up, and I did what had to be done. Sometimes I enjoyed it. Other times I resented it. Most of the time, I just did it without thinking.

There are times when the floors need to be scrubbed; other times when the birds' cages could be cleaner; days when the laundry should already have been done, when the dogs' nails might have been trimmed, their coats brushed; there are certainly times when the weeding gets ahead of me, and when the weather won't allow me to get the lawns mowed when they're already a tad shaggy - but overall, I get it all done, and I don't do such a bad job of any of it. I may not have the cleanest house in town, my yard may not be the best kept, and my garden is certainly not a showcase, but it all gets done.

The first year or so, the demands of doing all of the day to day things were balanced by a certain pride in conquering some of my fears and learning so many new things. Sometimes the pride was solely in being able to keep up, but other times, it was in being able to stand back and admire a job truly well-done. Soon, however, the glowing pride faded, and it just became my life. Out of the depths of grief, sorrow and trauma, I had truly emerged, but I found myself on very level ground, just getting through the days, and doing what needed to be done. Not many highs, but not many lows. Day to day, it was all okay.

Recently, something's happened in my life that's made me realize that I really love my little (quaint and cute) house, and that, with my animals (my family,) what we've done is quite wonderful. We have built a life, in a wonderful, sweet little home, and that all I have to do to realize what I have here is just open my back door.

Today was a dark, stormy, rainy day, with one thunder storm after another, high winds, teeming rain, and black, black skies. As the afternoon went on, though, the ceiling lifted, and though the sun is still not out, the light has softened to a gentle grey. Colors are saturated and deep, the earth smells sated and full, and the air in my back yard is scented with the gentle perfume of peonies and primrose.

Look out my back door -
- there are parklike vistas ...























- there are peonies in the pink ...


















- and just look at my Crow and the way she looks at me when I come home. Everything I need is right outside my back door. And now that I have noticed, I am, finally, home.

10 Comments:

Blogger shmikerzx said...

you seem to be such a strong woman...your yard is beautiful and your dog is adorable

6:39 PM  
Blogger Genny said...

Oh Ginny, I love this post on your blog. I think we might be sisters under the skin. Your house is adorably wonderful, and your companions are something I envy. Good going, girl!

7:09 PM  
Anonymous Beth Levine said...

Love this post.

Love your parklike vistas.
Love your pink peonies.
Love the Crow.

Love you.

10:00 PM  
Blogger Connordog said...

What a great view!!!

8:12 AM  
Blogger Knatolee said...

I can't believe it has been four years... unbelievable! Your garden and your peonies and your doggy look beautiful. You should be proud of the new life you've made for yourself.

9:12 AM  
Blogger flyingfish3 said...

I can't believe it's been 4 years either! What a peaceful post... glad to know that you are just where you're supposed to be... home!

8:46 AM  
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