I just finished reading the Road, which won a Pulitzer Prize. It's prose bordering on poetry. Do not read it if you are currently depressed or suicidal. Other than that, go for it. I don't want to do spoilers, but it is a must read.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
There Once Was A Beautiful Yard
Today I was thinking of the value of writing random things. Then I was trying to figure out which of my blogs that would fit into. I suppose this is as good a choice as any. My mind is all over the place today so maybe writing will help.
On Moving to Another State: I've lived in CA since 1969. The thought of leaving it because I can't afford to be here anymore makes me feel like it's yet another slide out of the lower middle class into abject poverty. And that makes me feel like a failure. On the other hand, at this point, the change will give me a new perspective. Maybe I'm too set in my ways.
On Having No Voice As A Renter: Our apartment complex went into foreclosure and then got bought by a team of investors that want to fix it up and cash out in a month. Jolly for them. My yard is ruined, the new color scheme sucks and since we both work from home, we are getting zero work done and our income is plummeting. We have painters and repairmen both inside and out with and without them letting us know they'll be here. It's stressful, harassing, and depressing. We have no voice in the color, the yard, or the schedule. They ripped out all the plants I grew from seed or from pots over the last decade to put in a drought resistant garden which may be ripped out again when they sell in a month if the new owner has a different vision. It's pretty hard to love a garden that came from pots from a nursery in lieu of plants that came from my darling boyfriend's grandmother when she passed away and plants I grew from seed that were thriving before this happened. And right at the height of spring when everything was coming into bloom. Should I have pointed out that these nasturtiums, brown eyed susans and succulents are drought resistant and haven't been watered since last year except by the rain?
I have to live here 24/7. What happened to my opinion on how my environment should look?
On Being an Artist: I'm one grumpy witch when I can't make art. Art is my stress relief. Creating things of beauty makes me feel there is still hope in the world for a brighter future. When I live in chaos, I can't create. I can't eat. I can't sleep. My productivity is nil. Instead of making new things I spend all my time trying to figure out how to get rid of 90% of what I own. How much can I give up without losing myself in the process?
The five photos below were taken in my 'private' backyard. Only the new owners don't see it as mine. All these plants will be ripped out sometime this week.
This is what my front yard looks like after they got their hands on it. (See photos below). It makes me want to cry every time I look out the window. It's not like we saw this coming. I found out on a Wed. it was in foreclosure. On Thurs. I found out we had new owners. A few days later the landscaping was gone.
The last flowers I planted for a veteran from TX who was going off to war. I picked them one afternoon and the next day when I opened the front door all the plants were gone.
The front yard before:
On Moving to Another State: I've lived in CA since 1969. The thought of leaving it because I can't afford to be here anymore makes me feel like it's yet another slide out of the lower middle class into abject poverty. And that makes me feel like a failure. On the other hand, at this point, the change will give me a new perspective. Maybe I'm too set in my ways.
On Having No Voice As A Renter: Our apartment complex went into foreclosure and then got bought by a team of investors that want to fix it up and cash out in a month. Jolly for them. My yard is ruined, the new color scheme sucks and since we both work from home, we are getting zero work done and our income is plummeting. We have painters and repairmen both inside and out with and without them letting us know they'll be here. It's stressful, harassing, and depressing. We have no voice in the color, the yard, or the schedule. They ripped out all the plants I grew from seed or from pots over the last decade to put in a drought resistant garden which may be ripped out again when they sell in a month if the new owner has a different vision. It's pretty hard to love a garden that came from pots from a nursery in lieu of plants that came from my darling boyfriend's grandmother when she passed away and plants I grew from seed that were thriving before this happened. And right at the height of spring when everything was coming into bloom. Should I have pointed out that these nasturtiums, brown eyed susans and succulents are drought resistant and haven't been watered since last year except by the rain?
I have to live here 24/7. What happened to my opinion on how my environment should look?
On Being an Artist: I'm one grumpy witch when I can't make art. Art is my stress relief. Creating things of beauty makes me feel there is still hope in the world for a brighter future. When I live in chaos, I can't create. I can't eat. I can't sleep. My productivity is nil. Instead of making new things I spend all my time trying to figure out how to get rid of 90% of what I own. How much can I give up without losing myself in the process?
The five photos below were taken in my 'private' backyard. Only the new owners don't see it as mine. All these plants will be ripped out sometime this week.
This is what my front yard looks like after they got their hands on it. (See photos below). It makes me want to cry every time I look out the window. It's not like we saw this coming. I found out on a Wed. it was in foreclosure. On Thurs. I found out we had new owners. A few days later the landscaping was gone.
The last flowers I planted for a veteran from TX who was going off to war. I picked them one afternoon and the next day when I opened the front door all the plants were gone.
The front yard before:
Me in my front yard. The jasmine vine behind me had just started to bloom. Now it's dead. |
Labels:
change,
environment,
hopelessness,
interstate,
landscaping,
moving,
remodeling,
renting,
roses,
ruined,
stupidity
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