This week, we along with the rest of the country, had another round of snow. It was predicted that our area would get three inches of snow. We got six. Surprise. What wasn't a surprise was the type of snow; heavy, water laden snow, commonly referred to as "Heart Attack Snow". This snow is hard to push and difficult to pick up. Unfortunately, each year, a number of people die after shoveling it.
I didn't want to be part of that statistic and instead of a snow shovel (I have three and they all serve a particular function), I used an electric snow thrower. Last year, I realized that a snow shovel was not always the best implement for clearing snow off of a driveway. If the snow is to deep or heavy I couldn't move it on my own. This year I invested in the snow thrower to give me help when needed.
To tell you the truth, I had been holding out using it because I wasn't very comfortable using power tools. When I was growing up, I, because of my gender, wasn't allowed to use any power tools; excluding the vacuum cleaner. Power tools were the purview of men.
But this week, it was time to face that nagging insecurity. So I plugged it up, pushed the start button, pulled the bail and away I went. I was in awe! Snow flew from my driveway and into the yard. I learned to put the cord on my left (and not on my right, as I would do with a vacuum). No wonder men love power tools.
Soon, I had enough room for the car. I felt fabulous! Not just because my driveway was cleared of snow, but because that nagging insecurity about power tools, became less influential. For me, owning a house is just like everything else; sometimes the worst part is not when I do something and it doesn't work, it's when I don't try at all. For now, power tools are great, I just have to remember to unplug them, don't stick important body parts in them, wipe them off after use and always give myself time enough to use it properly. In as much as I am impressed with the precision of tools that are not "juiced", there is a time and place for those tools that allow us to be a little more powerful.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Planning Your Garden: The Bad Boyfriend Pond
This week I've come across several newspaper articles that reads something like "Now is the time to plan your garden". Really? I thought I was supposed to be planning my garden in the fall as I cut back plants, put up patio furniture, unhooked the hose, and generally prepared for winter.
I have garden plans and I dream of heirloom tomatoes, pesticide free zucchini, yellow squash and other goodies. But, the looming obstacle is a man made pond that is in need of repair. Like a bad boyfriend, I have given it more attention than it deserves. This past summer the pump. Not good. And if one thing needs fixing, other things need to be fixed also. And they did. The man made pond - that I did not make - became my failure, of sorts. As everything from supports not supporting, electrical outlets not having electricity and pond water leaking from an unseen hole (or holes) it was apparent that an overhaul was needed. Like all bad boyfriends, the pond became an object of hope.
Well, I hope that works. I hope the water comes out. I hope I can find the hole(s). I hope...
This spring, the pond can no longer be the sole object of affection in the yard. There are plants, compost piles and mulch screaming for attention and they, yes, they have been with me through thick and thin. My garden is planned for the most part and I, like others cannot wait to get out and separate plants and dig into a ground that winter has finally relaxed its grip on. The pond in the back will get its due. A new pump and a reconfiguration that will use less water and be easier to keep up. It will not be the bad boyfriend any more and I will no longer run home hoping that it will change.
I have garden plans and I dream of heirloom tomatoes, pesticide free zucchini, yellow squash and other goodies. But, the looming obstacle is a man made pond that is in need of repair. Like a bad boyfriend, I have given it more attention than it deserves. This past summer the pump. Not good. And if one thing needs fixing, other things need to be fixed also. And they did. The man made pond - that I did not make - became my failure, of sorts. As everything from supports not supporting, electrical outlets not having electricity and pond water leaking from an unseen hole (or holes) it was apparent that an overhaul was needed. Like all bad boyfriends, the pond became an object of hope.
Well, I hope that works. I hope the water comes out. I hope I can find the hole(s). I hope...
This spring, the pond can no longer be the sole object of affection in the yard. There are plants, compost piles and mulch screaming for attention and they, yes, they have been with me through thick and thin. My garden is planned for the most part and I, like others cannot wait to get out and separate plants and dig into a ground that winter has finally relaxed its grip on. The pond in the back will get its due. A new pump and a reconfiguration that will use less water and be easier to keep up. It will not be the bad boyfriend any more and I will no longer run home hoping that it will change.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Snow! Snow! Snow!
By now most of the country has had snow hit the ground, trees, or roof tops. It doesn't seem as if anyone has been spared (except Hawaii). I am happy that in the southern suburbs of Chicago, the snow came in under 12 inches.
It took me three outings and most of the day to clear the driveway. Truthfully, a three foot swath was not (and will not) be shoveled. I was lucky, a neighbor with a snow plow cleared several inches away, so I did not have to shovel the entire nine plus inches of fresh powder. But, what I had was enough.
For those of you who don't know, I am new to home ownership, however, I'm not new to snow. I grew up in Chicago and went through the big snow of 1979. I shoveled the side walk with abandon and with the promise of hot chocolate and a couple of extra dollars when I finished, I was happy. Now, I live in the suburbs of Chicago. The driveway often seems too long when it has to be shoveled or plowed when the snow falls.
This was a struggle last year. I am a single woman, surrounded by families. I have learned several things in this year of home ownership. First, it is the men who do the majority of yard work. Secondly, I learned that I was itimidated. I fantasized about having a man I could turn to and say, "Honey, why don't you ask John what fertilizers he uses on his lawn." But, that was not going to happen. During, the year I would break out in a sweat, if I had to do anything outside. Cut down plants, rake the yard, dig mushrooms/toadstools out of the yard, pick up the daily paper. Why? I would be the single woman who just couldn't hack it. I feared being the neighbor who's lawn, house, or activities, just didn't live up to the rest of the neighborhood. I saw the men with their very manly machines, seemingly in control of everything that they did.
A year can make a difference and being adopted by the 80 year-old widower next door can help a lot. He's the one who told me that the house will shift twice a year; he mulched my leaves when I was at work and he told me the best way to clean leaves out of the gutters (get on top of the roof ). This winter, I was less intimidated and kept my driveway almost as clean as the guys (with help from the neighbor with the plow). I would get out out and shovel and not worry about what anyone thought of me. How did that happen...I don't know. Perhaps, I was much more comfortable in my own skin and therefore I was more comfortable letting others see it also. Or, perhaps, I was comforted by the many stories involving men falling off their roofs or getting fingers caught in snowblowers or lawmowers. Or, perhaps, I was no longer the new kid on the block. Now, as I work out outside, I am more confident. The guys on the block are a treasure trove of information. And each time I beat the guys and am working in the yard before them, I feel even better.
It took me three outings and most of the day to clear the driveway. Truthfully, a three foot swath was not (and will not) be shoveled. I was lucky, a neighbor with a snow plow cleared several inches away, so I did not have to shovel the entire nine plus inches of fresh powder. But, what I had was enough.
For those of you who don't know, I am new to home ownership, however, I'm not new to snow. I grew up in Chicago and went through the big snow of 1979. I shoveled the side walk with abandon and with the promise of hot chocolate and a couple of extra dollars when I finished, I was happy. Now, I live in the suburbs of Chicago. The driveway often seems too long when it has to be shoveled or plowed when the snow falls.
This was a struggle last year. I am a single woman, surrounded by families. I have learned several things in this year of home ownership. First, it is the men who do the majority of yard work. Secondly, I learned that I was itimidated. I fantasized about having a man I could turn to and say, "Honey, why don't you ask John what fertilizers he uses on his lawn." But, that was not going to happen. During, the year I would break out in a sweat, if I had to do anything outside. Cut down plants, rake the yard, dig mushrooms/toadstools out of the yard, pick up the daily paper. Why? I would be the single woman who just couldn't hack it. I feared being the neighbor who's lawn, house, or activities, just didn't live up to the rest of the neighborhood. I saw the men with their very manly machines, seemingly in control of everything that they did.
A year can make a difference and being adopted by the 80 year-old widower next door can help a lot. He's the one who told me that the house will shift twice a year; he mulched my leaves when I was at work and he told me the best way to clean leaves out of the gutters (get on top of the roof ). This winter, I was less intimidated and kept my driveway almost as clean as the guys (with help from the neighbor with the plow). I would get out out and shovel and not worry about what anyone thought of me. How did that happen...I don't know. Perhaps, I was much more comfortable in my own skin and therefore I was more comfortable letting others see it also. Or, perhaps, I was comforted by the many stories involving men falling off their roofs or getting fingers caught in snowblowers or lawmowers. Or, perhaps, I was no longer the new kid on the block. Now, as I work out outside, I am more confident. The guys on the block are a treasure trove of information. And each time I beat the guys and am working in the yard before them, I feel even better.
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