49. Gate

This is the Gate That Mr. Murphy built. Possibly Mr. Chapman or Mr. Woltjen. I don't think it's original to the house, but it is old. It is, like many parts of my house, shabby. I think the brick is what fools the eye--brick houses, barring earthquakes, just stand and stand and stand. Yeah, a little tuckpointing, but they don't need to be painted, they don't need new siding or replacement bits of siding. No need to re-stucco. They just are. So it shocks me, still, when other things don't hold up like the red brick.

But I digress. This gate has to go.

My yard, during rougher times in the neighborhood, has been used as a quick cut-through to the alley to escape detection or just as a shortcut. The fault lies in two places--I could put a lock on my back gate, which is 6 feet tall and can be locked with a padlock or other such device, but the major fault is right here with this gate.

That's Billy's hand there, and the gate isn't much taller than he is. It's about as tall as Daisy, actually, easily jumped over by any teenaged male with his limbs intact. And look at that lock--it confounded our old rottweiler dog, but even billy has figured out how to wiggle the bar out of the lock. It is useless as a barrier now.

So it is time to replace it. This is the Year of Unfinished Projects, and I'm getting a lot of them done. This is one that has been staring at my in the face for 13 years. It's time.

26. St. Patrick's Day Potatoes

The old wives tale is to get your potatoes in the ground by St. Patrick's Day. That, of course, is a week away, so I'm hurrying outside to get things ready. I'm going to grow them in containers this year, and since potatoes grown in containers are not the prettiest creatures, I'm planting them back by the compost heap.

This sounds like a good plan, except that due to various factors (babies, hypothyroidism being the biggest two), my yard has totally gone to seed. Literally. My trifecta of weeds is: (1) wild violets, (2) morning glory, and (3) Indian (wild) strawberry. An "also ran" in that race would be English Ivy, although when I'm diligent, I can keep that in check and it isn't as ugly as the other three.

My compost heap is in the back corner of my yard. To make this make some sense, here is a quick drawing. The top of the drawing is north. Our house is south. Don't ask me why the former owners built the parking pad this way with the two skinny strips of land on each side. One side is closed in like a chicken yard, which is where we grow crops that squirrels desire (mostly tomatoes). The other skinny strip of land is fallow. At the end is our compost heap. Just north of it was this huge 100 year old mulberry tree that we took down Fall '08. Now it is a 4 foot tall stump, but it's on the other side of the fence.

ANYWAY. That whole strip of land was all English ivy and morning glory vines. Plus some other unidentified weeds and compost bits that the girls didn't get to the compost heap all the way (our compost heap is open, and is made of a 4x4 and 2x4 frame with chicken wire holding it in).

So I spent two hours this morning clearing out that crap. Then I put down all the containers that will become potatoes. After lunch, I'm going back out to fill the pots.

I have high hopes for my yard. I am a different person than three years ago when I stopped paying attention because I felt too bad. I'm planting greens today, too, in the closed in garden. So here's hoping for a good growing summer and that all goes well enough for me and the kids to pay attention.