I’d show you pictures but that would require me to get up and abandon this lovely ice cream I’m currently spending time with.  That’s not going to happen.  What is going to happen is that we shall see whether my mad re-planting skills work on the clematis I moved.  I feel like I just transplanted an organ and shall be waiting on the tips of my toes to see if this sucker’s gonna make it or croak.

I hope it makes it, but if not I won’t cry or anything.  It was choking out my rose bush, so it was either the clematis or the rose.  Between the two, I think moving the clematis was the only real option there.

It just occurred to me that I’m hopelessly boring sitting here talking about plants and yardwork.  Unfortunately, this is about as exciting as I’m gonna get tonight so I’d better go before I cause y’all to start dozing at your desks.  I can just imagine it now, your co-worker or spouse or roommate stumbles across your inert form lying prone across your keyboard and he/she takes off running down the street, flagging a policeman (who looks like a British constable) and pleading, “Stop her before she bores again!”

Let’s avoid a scene then, shall we?  I just finished the first season of Prison Break and I have no desire to get shipped off the clink.  I have no time to get a full-body tattoo and would probably just read it backward anyway even if I did.

In fact, the other nice thing about Washington summers is that the daylight stretches from 6am clear until 9pm.  Wes and I seized the day, and our gardening utensils, and escaped outdoors after work today.  In the spirit of 4/20, and because we don’t smoke weed, we did the next best thing: We pulled weeds.

I still can’t get over what nice weather does to Washingtonians.  All of us kept escaping outside during work today so we could soak up as much sunlight as possible, and we all left work not a minute too late so that we could enjoy it.  We’re like sun-starved plants, orienting ourselves toward the sun in an effort to harvest as much energy as possible.

Scientists posit that there’s a higher rate of cancer and multiple sclerosis in Washington state than in any other state because we get so little sunlight (I guess vitamin D is important or something?)  It’s possible that living here is hazardous, that the three or four months of lovely weather do not make the rest of the abysmal year of weather worthwhile.

It’s possible, but I think unlikely.  I read on MSN the other day that Portland is now the number one suicide city in the nation.  When I moved here, I’m pretty sure Seattle held that honor so I’d say things are moving in the right direction.  Which is to say south.  So watch out, California.

Speaking of my lovely home state, I was talking to my brother last night and he was kvetching that the weather never changes in California, therefore making it boring.  I replied that most Washingtonians would vastly prefer boring but nice weather to wondering whether it’s going to snow in the middle of April.  Excitement, like milk, gets pretty awful after awhile.  Unless you’re like one of those adrenaline junkie people, in which case I guess you’d just have to say that you preferred sour cream to milk.

I was outside doing some yard work today and I literally felt like Dementors were going to come gliding around the corner any minute to suck away my sanity and happiness. I decided to beat a hasty retreat indoors to implore my husband to prepare booze for me so that I could hide from the Dementors and think of the happiest memory I have ever had.

Now that we all know how I’ll be spending my weekend, let’s talk about you. How are you planning to spend your weekend?

The direct result of all this unruly life, however, is even more unruly life. We have wildlife all over the place and it’s getting a bit out of hand. My personal favorites are the two squirrels who enjoy re-enacting American Gladiators on our rose trellis. They balance their hind legs on the slats of the trellis and wrestle with their front paws until one of them topples. When one of them falls, he/she gets back up and they go at it again. It’s awesome but so distracting. When they’re not doing this, our resident squirrels also enjoy racing up and down our cedar trees and making irritable noises at the puppy.

Another wild friend is Buns, the brown bunny who hops through our yard every morning and evening. He’s large, soft-looking, and nobody’s fool. He enjoys rustling the leaves of our shrubs when I’m walking out in the dark yard at night and running past the puppy when Doc is on a leash, thus causing Doc substantial psychic pain because he realizes that the brief pleasure to be had from running at Buns is incalculably dwarfed by the severity of my displeasure at having my puppy yank my arm off while chasing a bunny.

We have a negligent mommy duck who hasn’t stopped by since her chicks were downy (which is just as well, because I have a lecture that’s just burning my lips off waiting for her) and also a raccoon who is fat, belligerent, and not above stealing Doc’s kibble if we leave the garage door open all night.

In addition to these warm-blooded creatures, there’s a staggering array of butterflies, moths, spiders, worms, beetles, frogs, snakes, and grubs who also enjoy the spacious grounds surrounding our house. I have been accosted personally by bright green frogs twice, have experienced the tickly perambulations of spiders on my bare arms five times, and have scooped up more slugs with the poop scoop than I care to remember.

I’m sure these creatures all lived here quite happily before we bought this place, but my more narcissistic side is inclined to believe they’re all new additions, drawn here by their fame-hungry natures, all eager for a mention in my blog.

These are my beautiful pansies. I planted them for some color (as this flower box is visible from the kitchen) when we were trying to sell our house, but I’ve gotten very fond of seeing them outside in the morning. When it’s cloudy and gray outside they seem to brighten the very air around them.

In the Spring, there are about six daffodils that shoot up out of that middle spot there, but those have already gone back to sleep until next year.

These are just some of the roses we grow here. We have about eight different varieties, and these grow on a trellis that tops the fence by our deck. These roses are so neat, because every year they grow farther along the trellis. I’m hoping that someday they’ll cover the whole trellis and we’ll have a canopy of roses. Also, they smell amazing!

This is the walkway that we cleared out last weekend. The stones of the walkway are all very sparkly and this part of our yard has a very serene quality to it.

It’s right next to our deck and contains some of the biggest plants in our yard. In the far right corner, you can see the outline of our giant fleece flower. This beast grows over eight feet tall in about a month and is about four feet wide. It’s enormous!

Don’t you just wish you got to look out and see this every morning?

This is only a few highlights from our yard. We have a lot of flowers and plants that flourish at different times of the year, so our yard never looks the same from month to month.

Wes and I have given up on the idea of getting all the yard work done at once and have instead embraced a do-what-you-can perspective on the whole issue. Unless we hire a full-time gardener, there’s no way it’s all getting done! Still, even though it’s a ton of work and the dirt never really comes out from the farthest reaches of my fingernails, we enjoy taking care of our yard and love watching it flourish. Hard work is always better when it pays off in a pretty way.

Speaking of curious, I learned something over the weekend that fascinated me mightily: Wes loves strawberry shortcake (the dessert, not the young girls’ toy and movie scion.) I made strawberry shortcake from scratch on Friday and Wes didn’t even want to let the shortcake cool before slathering it with homemade whipped cream and fresh strawberries. He ate that dessert so quickly that for a second I thought I’d forgotten to give him some. I tell you, the man is a sucker for good shortcake.

The curious thing about this is that I never knew Wes liked this particular dessert. I had no idea! What kind of wife has no idea that her husband loves something with such dessert-inhaling passion?! I’ve known him for seven years now, you’d think shortcake would’ve come up by now! Truly I am ashamed at my negligence. We’ve been married almost three years and, had I known about his absolute devotion to that dessert, I would have made it for him prior to this! See? This is what comes from keeping things to yourself in marriage! Fewer strawberry shortcakes!

I think I should forewarn everyone that I am on a bit of a baking binge. I went out and procured for myself a springform pan (for cheesecake) and a roasting pan (for, well, roasts) and I plan to spend much of next weekend in the kitchen (real estate agents willing.) I have a recipe for lemon mascarpone cheesecake I’ve been wanting to try for two years now and a recipe for roast chicken with lemon and shallots that sounds like it would be perfect with homemade mashed potatoes and sauteed asparagus. Yes, you’re all welcome for dinner.

To be honest, we’re going to have to start handing out more leftovers if I keep baking this much. You see, I love baking, and I love eating, but I’m not so fond of exercising so I’m going to need help to prevent my second love from occluding my first one. Apparently it’s harder to get outside and buy new ingredients when you’re too morbidly obese to get out the door.

I couldn’t update, though, because I was stuck in a couple of never-ending computerless tasks that nevertheless consumed my entire weekend. On Saturday, Wes and I attended the Republican district caucus. The website said that the festivities (HA!) started at 7:30am but what they really meant was that you could start signing in then. The caucus didn’t actually start until 9am-ish which meant that Wes and I had a jolly old time just sitting in an elementary school gymnasium wondering when the caucus was going to start.

I think this will be the last caucus I go to, though. It’s just really not my scene. I don’t particularly enjoy talking about politics in public (it always feels rather illicit to me) and I’ve recently decided that the Republican party needs a major overhaul before I’ll feel comfortable hobnobbing with its denizens.

While I agree with the Republican philosophies about spending priorities and small government, I find that the party has stagnated and is in dire need of fresh air. The problem, however, is that the party is so repugnant (to me and, I’m assuming, others of my ilk) that I fear the fresh air will never come.

For instance, someone announced that Obama had won in Wyoming. One guy stood up and asked if he’d persuaded “All those Brokeback Mountain guys to vote for him”. Klassy.

This means that while Wes is welcome to rejuvenate the political party of our choosing he will have to do it without my rather irritated company (I grew rather peeved when I realized that the caucus was going to take up my whole day. We were there from 7:30am until 4pm. Honestly, it was all freaking day).

Sunday brought with it nice weather and yard work. Our yard is coming together nicely and when it’s done I’ll post some pretty pictures for your perusal. Wes trimmed hedges and I planted pansies (Is it juvenile that I always giggle when I say that?) and we bought a corkscrew pussy willow (Again with the giggles) as a centerpiece for our lawn.

We leave for Israel pretty soon and I think we might just have a snowball’s chance in Hades of pulling our house together before then. As long as I’m not expected to go to any caucuses between now and then, that is.

Then came the little yellow house we call home. We bought it in October when the plants were all hibernating so we didn’t pay much attention to our yard until Spring arrived (and by arrived I mean thundered in like a battalion of warrior-elephants). I kid you not, our first year of marriage we were awed by the sheer multitude of plants that sprang up out of nowhere as soon as the sun started coming out. Brilliant flowers like this one were all over the freaking place: Daffodils, camilias, roses, lilacs, crocuses, hydrangeas, and a gigantic-huge crawling flower bush that grows about 10 feet tall and is chock-full of purple flowers. Everywhere there were flowers (and weeds!) and we were severely intimidated.

The next year we were prepared for the bloom-explosion but still mostly afraid of yardwork. Wes and I would look out almost every day and just shake our heads at the overwhelming amount of upkeep that was needed.

Now here we are to this year. This year we are prepared and willing to venture outside and maintain the heck out of our yard. Wes and I took advantage of the sunshine this weekend and cleaned our gutters, wiped off our sky-light, pruned the climber roses on our trellis, raked/trimmed away any dead leaves or vines still clinging to existence, and sprayed insect-repellant on our roses.

Essentially, we made our yard look the best it’s looked since we moved in. We’re still aiming to sell this house later in the Spring so we want it to look as nice as possible on the outside. I think that when Spring officially hits I’ll post pictures of my pretty yard. Who doesn’t like pretty flowers?

On a slightly less “life in bloom” note, Doc seems to have injured his leg. His left hind leg, to be exact. He started limping on Friday and it’s only now starting to get better. Honestly, words do not describe the frustration we felt on discovering that he was injured again before he’d even finished healing up from his last injury.

Luckily for all of us, his limp is a little better this morning. As you can see, he’s in good spirits (as always) and looking forward to a full recovery. As his non-canine mother, however, I must ask that he please refrain from injuring himself any further. My heart simply cannot take anymore. It’s very unpleasant to be constantly worrying about your dog and knowing that it’s not because you’re a hypochondriac.

I have not historically been known for my fire-safety prowess and was infamously once responsible for the near conflagration of a local gas station. I was in the process of clumsily lighting up a cigarette while my friend put gas in her car when the guy next to us looked at me incredulously and said, “You’re not seriously thinking of lighting that, are you?”. Now that you know that, you’re a little bit impressed I’ve made it this far, aren’t you?

Anyway, after polishing my toes I became gripped, gripped, I say! by the need to unpack the china that Wes’ mother gave me for Christmas. I had been too sick previously to unpack all the plates and tea cups so it felt really good to get that item crossed off my list. After I’d packed all the china away and cleaned up the mess I realized that I had a good two hours of sunlight left to my day-off credit.

After peeking outside and ascertaining the fantastic weather conditions I decided that it would be a fine time to do some yard work. And now I finally arrive at my point. I had originally intended to de-weed the flower box outside our kitchen window and cut down the gigantic corpulent clematis tumbleweed that had been hanging from our fence since September. What did I accomplish? I took down the clematis tumbleweed and spent the next hour and a half hacking through the rain forest that has sprouted in the flowerbed next to it.

I know what you’re thinking and you’re absolutely right. I am not the sort of person who sets out to accomplish specific goals and yet neglects to see them through. I am, however, a woman at the mercy of her garden which, at this point, could reduce even the heartiest of green thumbs to a couch potato. Welcome to the jungle indeed.

Our yard is just so immensely over-run and in need of so much work that I would need to quit my job and do yard-work full-time to keep it presentable. Immediately after graduation I spent about a week looking for a job and had a lot of spare time on my hands. Even then, spending an average of 4 hours per day working in my yard for a whole week I only made about half the yard look presentable. Within two weeks it was over-run again.

The whole time I was outside weeding I felt the weight of crushing futility because I knew that as soon as the weather warmed up the area would explode with weeds again. Our yard is the stuff a gardener’s dreams are made of. We have plants flourishing here that aren’t even supposed to survive in this kind of climate. Plants will not die no matter what we do.

I once heard that if you chop off more than 50% of a plant it will die. Feeling optimistic, I applied this principle to some kind of flowering bush that bloomed for a week every year and left papery brown flower-corpses everywhere. I trimmed it with clippers and then literally hacked into the ground with a hatchet to get the roots. I was sure that was the last we’d be hearing from that litter-bug plant. Wrong. The next year it grew back and dumped it’s soggy brown flowers all over my patio. This just proves my point that we have some kind of super-soil that I think a great gardener could do wonders with. I think that our yard would be heavenly for someone who loves working in the dirt.

Unfortunately, Wes and I have no great love for yard work. Wes gets discouraged by the sheer magnitude of work that needs to be done and I have a “total elimination” style of gardening that doesn’t really suit Wes’ taste. When I decide a section of the yard is too cluttered I clear it out and sometimes “good” plants become collateral damage. After working on one section of the yard last year, Wes once told me it looked like The Terminator had exploded. There was even a crater. Would you be surprised if I told you that some of our most vitriolic disagreements have been about yard work?

Strangely-based arguments aside, after working on the yard yesterday we have a pretty good game plan on how we’re going to whip the outside of our house into shape in preparation for putting it on the market. Using a very sophisticated attack plan involving bark, truckloads of yard waste, and potted plants we think we can shock-and-awe people into overlooking some of the other work that needs to be done. After all, we’re only two people, for goodness sakes! We still have the inside of the house to consider! Now that we know better I think we’ll be a little more intentional about considering how much work will need to go into the upkeep of the outside of a potential house.

Said house will of course be big enough for oodles of kids, have a fireplace and jetted jacuzzi tub in the master suite, a kitchen with granite counter-tops and an island, and a low-maintenance yard. Oh, and if it could be in the same city and cost as much as our current house that would be great. What? I figure if I’m asking for the moon I might as well ask for the stars as well…