Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.

Cozy.

Where was I? Oh yah. I was going to check exactly where I've been over the past . . . how many weeks was it?

A couple of years ago, I posted about the crazy, coming-and-going schedule Steve and I had kept that spring. Well, friends, this has been another one of those springs, and much of it was my own doing.

I count that between May 26 and today, I have spent a total of five days in the office. FIVE DAYS out of 32 working days!

I was in the office on May 16, 17, 21, 22, and 23.
I put Steve's camping trip in there only to be consistent with my previous calendar.

Spring happens to be "Crazy Conference Season" in our business, which requires a good amount of travel for me. When you add in vacation travel, some planned sick time, and a four-day course - it adds up.

When I arrived back at the office this afternoon, there were several calls of "Welcome back!"

For much of that time I've been "at home," but most of May I wasn't even in Ottawa. Last weekend, I took my daughter out for dinner and she said, "I've missed you."

And, although I had wireless access during the work-related travel, it is really difficult to stay on top of things while you are in transit. I took care of anything urgent and important, but there were plenty of things that were important but not urgent that got moved to the longer-term task list.

It all means that I feel a little tired and a little disconnected.

It is good to be back, and I'm looking forward to getting caught up on things.

How does my garden grow!

Please! Please! Come right in! Welcome to our oasis.

It's been two years since we started planting our garden, and I think it's finally starting to come together.  The plants are maturing and settling into place. We've moved some plants around, to suit my fancy.

The northwest corner

Some of the shrubs have had minor setbacks, but the purple sand cherry and the dogwood have really made themselves at home. The hydrangea struggled, then died. The magnolia (more pictures later) suffered a fungus attack and all but died.

The stars of the garden right now are the snow-in-summer and the mother-of-thyme.

Snow-in-summer

Mother-of-thyme (with snow-in-summer in the background)

The flowers will soon fade, but the foliage will last, giving a dusty-green cloud to the border of the pool, and soft green along the paths.

You can see clumps of mother-of-thyme under the hammock.
We planted those last year; they'll take a while to mature as they're in a shady spot.

I've got oregano, sage, chives, parsley, thyme, and basil.
Also a rose bush and lavender in the back corners, for colour.
I also read something about roses being good for herbs. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Next year, we hope to add a tomato or some lettuce.

The herb garden was a pleasant surprise. Everything except the basil survived the winter! I didn't think parsley was so hardy, but there it is. (The herb garden has a perfectly sun-drenched corner of the yard.)

I don't usually let my herbs flower, but the chive flower matches my colour scheme, so . . .

The poor magnolia

We trimmed the magnolia back last summer, almost to the ground. It seems to be doing much better this year, so we'll see how it goes.

Magnolia buds

My poor iris!

The iris broke out in a nasty fungal attack. I've trimmed off most of the blighted leaves and sprinkled it with sulfur, but it seems to have taken a toll on the plant. But it's not dead yet!

And now for a little flashback. This is what the back yard looked like when we moved in.

July 2010

The northwest corner.
The flowers are "mallow" an invasive weed.

October 2010
After the construction of the pool.

Looking towards the southwest corner (where the hammock now is).
Starting from scratch.

July 2011

The garden border was made of ditch lilies and spiderwort - also known as weeds. But they were free and helped us fill in the blank spots without going broke. (You can see small, newly planted  clumps of snow-in-summer under the weeds. Now that the lilies and spiderwort are gone, the snow-in-summer can really shine!)

Day lilies (ditch lilies) at left, spiderwort at right.
(Though I did not take any pictures of them today, the clematis are still there.)

These weeds were fine, but they hid everything behind them and under them, including the snow-in-summer. With the help of my son, the day lilies have been moved back along the fence, and the spiderwort has been eradicated. We hope.

My plan for this year is to bring in some hollyhocks and some poppies. Also some phlox.

TMI

Warning: this post talks about colonoscopies. If that grosses you out, please move on. Here, go look at some cute cats. I'm sharing this because this is information I searched for but was unable to find. [Seriously, Blogger? You don't recognize the word "colonoscopy"?]

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Colon Cancer Canada
(I'm pretty sure that butt has been Photoshopped.)

My aunt died of colon cancer; my mother and her sister have also battled colon cancer, so I take the risk seriously and have scheduled my second colonoscopy.

After my mother's diagnosis and surgery, I learned that I should start scheduling colonoscopies about ten years before the age at which my mother was diagnosed. By that dictum, I probably could wait a few years, but given my own digestive troubles, I started earlier.

My first one was done in Colorado, where I received the full benefit of cushy comfort with a comprehensive health plan.

For me, the preparation was the worst part.

The objective of the prep is that the colon will be sparkling clean, free of debris, stains, or, um, solid matter. The way they achieve that is by having the patient ingest a powerful laxative and then consume nothing but clear liquids for 24 hours before the procedure.

After I had booked my appointment, our family decided to go skiing on the day before my appointment. I called the nurse and asked whether it would be okay for me to go up to the ski hill with my family. She cautioned me that I should stay home - and close to a private toilet.

The Fairy Tree

A Fairy Tree forest

As we drove from Galway to Limerick, we passed this copse of trees. I would have thought nothing of it, but our tour director, Jill, pointed it out to us and explained its significance.

In the Catholic church, it was (perhaps still is) forbidden to bury anyone who had not been baptized within the sacred grounds of the church. For families of babies who died before a priest could visit, this was heartbreaking, and they buried their infants under a Hawthorn tree.

Eventually, the land might be cleared and used for sod, harvest or grazing, but the trees were never disturbed. Some called them Fairy Trees.

They are such a strong part of the culture that these trees are actually protected.

Jill showed us the tree that rerouted a highway.

In one case, a highway was actually rerouted because of a protected tree - and we actually saw the tree. Now, I would never have known the significance of this nondescript bit of shrubbery but, as always, the Irish tale made it a landmark - and a significant memory for me of that trip (now a month past!).

As I've mentioned in previous posts about this trip, I was feeling increasingly ill. At this point, I still hadn't registered it as motion sickness or even nausea. I just felt . . . lethargic and without appetite. On this day, however, it was very clearly nausea. We stopped for lunch in Limerick, where there was a vibrant farmer's market in full swing.

The view from a sitting area above the market.

I let Steve wander around while I escaped to a sitting area above the market (and well away from the smells and bustle). I tried to breathe deeply. It didn't work. Before I knew it, I was vomiting inelegantly into a garbage can. I dashed down the stairs to the restroom, only to stop again at another garbage can.

With that, I felt well enough to walk around. I wasn't at all hungry, but I did enjoy everything on display.

Prunes

I cannot imagine meat being displayed like this in a Canadian open-air market.

Beautiful, buttery cheese

Antipasto

Preserves (I did buy some of these as gifts)

Outside the main courtyard, there were tinkers, some selling bits and scraps they had gathered here and there, others performing.

His music was delightful, but you can see he makes no secret of what he does with his cash.

I dreaded getting back on the bus, but it was time. Fortunately, we drove only a short distance, then took a rest stop at a beautiful park in Adare, County Limerick.

Adare: Winner of the 1976 National Tidy Towns Competition

I spent most of the hour lying on a park bench gazing at the sky.

When it wasn't raining, the skies were so lovely.

Once we reached Killarney, I begged off the "Jaunting Carts" ride through the grounds of Muckross House and shopped for every anti-nausea potion and gimmick I could find. These pictures are from Steve.

A lovely little thatched-roof cottage

These are the "jaunting carts."

They even saw deer!

Another view of the jaunting carts.

That evening we went out to a Ceilidh (pronounced KAY-lee) - a traditional Celtic get-together, another optional excursion on our tour. We were greeted at the entrance to the pub by a shapely lantern.

Evidently this little chap, positioned gazing at her, found her quite . . . stimulating.

I truly don't know how else one is to interpret this.
He certainly looks red-faced about being caught.

Inside, we enjoyed a good meal, music, and dancing.

The bodhrán, a drum-like instrument, was amazing to me - such a variety of sounds from one instrument,
from brushes, to clicks to more common drum-sounds.

The chap on the left had the air of a frequent patron of the pub.
The chap on the right is holding an Uilleann pipe (pronounced "EE-lin pipe).

The whole time I watched these step dancers,
I was terrified they would back up and fall down the stairs.

With that, it was back to our rooms and to bed, where we slept very, very well indeed.

Another Beautiful Bride

My friend, K.B., whom I've mentioned previously.

That is a picture of my high-school best friend, K.B

[Not that I really have another best friend now. I mean, I have friends, but . . . I wonder if the whole "best friend" thing kind of loses its currency as we get older. Or has my continual migration from one city, province, or country to another made that difficult for me? Oh, this line of thinking is almost too sad to continue.]

K.B. is short for [redacted], which NO ONE calls her. Except, perhaps, her dad and sister. Back in high school, we often called her Killer Bunny, after the rabbit from Monty Python and the Holy Grail (though she was nothing like that evil rodent).


K.B. and I knew each other during those blistering years of high school when we feel both immortal and rawly vulnerable. She showed up in my Functions & Relations class with an enthusiasm for Math that dumbfounded me. It was, I learned, an enthusiasm for knowledge - she was, and is, eager to learn anything about anything. She's also someone who "waves her freak flag" with gusto.

Over the ensuing couple of years, we became almost inseparable. I slept over at her house about half the time, avoiding the emotional difficulties at my home. Meanwhile, her family was suffering the excruciating loss of her brother, Cullen (or "Cully"), who died too young of Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia, and her mother who died more slowly of Parkinson's Disease.

Can you even imagine the pain?

And yet, she, indeed her entire family, welcomed me, embraced me. I had a permanent seat at their dinner table. K.B. and I shared clothes like sisters (though that blue blouse she's wearing in that picture looked WORLDS better on her than it ever did on me). Cully called me from the hospital where he lay dying. I was with the family as they buried their beloved mother. To this day, I wish I had known both Cully and Mrs. Sterling before they were ill.

K.B. and I have lived geographically separate lives, but have stayed in touch, especially with the gift of e-mail and social media. (Many scoff at the "fake" nature of social-media relationships, but I have found that social media has served to strengthen many friendships and has, conversely, made me ponder why I ever considered so-and-so a friend at all.)

Well, last weekend, I had the great joy of attending K.B.'s wedding to Chris. It is a second marriage for each of them, so they went into it with eyes wide open and hearts grateful for this surprise of love. I wish I'd been able to get to know Chris better.

But I do know that they fit. In the quirky, accepting, supportive ways that matter.

Enough. Here are some pictures I took before and during their wedding and reception.

This was taken at the unofficial rehearsal dinner.
What started out as dinner for three turned into dinner for five, then dinner for six
 then . . . aw, heck. Let's just all get together. 

The new blended family.
That's Mr. Sterling at the "head" of the table. K.B.'s sister is to his right (our left).
(I won't name anyone else as I do not have their permission, but please feel free to download and use your pictures.)

K.B.'s daughter gave the couple a STAR! In Ursa Major! That's the kind of mother K.B. is.

The wedding day dawned sunny and warm.

The wedding palette.

K.B. is not a fussy, girly-girl, but she did allow for some pampering on this occasion.

The flowers were so, so beautiful.

The bride and her maids laughing at a YouTube video while getting ready.

She came down the aisle and made her vows barefoot.
Because, if you know anything about K.B., you know that you ought to expect the unexpected.
(Chris claims he absolutely did not notice.)

There was a fair bit of laughter at this ceremony, but it was absolutely earnest as well.

Yes, she loves him.

Yes, yes indeed she does.

Another little bit of the unexpected.

There are many more pictures, of course, but I will share them with K.B. and Chris, who are still on their honeymoon before I post them anywhere.

I'm so glad we are friends. I'm so glad I was there - and that K.B. and her family were there for me.