Terrace wall repair

There's never a lack of projects to do here at the manor.  One we've put off, for one reason or another, is repairing the west terrace wall. 

This wall has a bit of a sad story. It was constructed near the end of 2004 after Himself was diagnosed with cancer for the second time. The prognosis was pretty grim. It was colon cancer that had metastasized to his liver and the doctor at Johns Hopkins deemed it to be "inoperable," and therefore terminal. 

Doctors CAN be wrong. 

It was under this dark cloud that he took on the project, firmly believing it would be the last thing he ever did to improve the manor. 

The wall lasted over a decade, but time and water will always win. The last section built has collapsed. Last summer it was only a small collapse and close inspection showed a larger one was imminent. We determined it would be better to allow the hostas to bloom another year, wait for the collapse, and then effect a more substantial repair. 

And so here we are. When the weather improves and the ground dries and firms up, we have a job to do. It's not as difficult as it may appear. The remnants of the old wall will get scooped up in the bucket of the John Deere and dropped on the lower stone fence. Using the backhoe, we'll dig out some soil and prepare level ground for the foundation. After that is finished, it will be time to select some substantial stones from the upper stone fence and rebuild the wall. 

With any luck, it will only take us a weekend. Like everything here at the manor, the weather is the key factor. No matter how many Saturday afternoons it may take, we'll both be glad to have it done. 

That wall is like a metaphor for his life. If a section crumbles, it's time to pick yourself up, fix it, and keep going. And that's how we do it at Holly Tree Manor.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

A bit of autumn bloom

Earlier this year I accomplished something I long wanted - a knee wall at a problematic bank. Many, many years ago, the bank was created when we leveled the ground to form a parking area. Over time, rocks got tossed there and it became a problem area. There was no way to mow so the area needed to be weed-whacked. It wasn't a fun chore.

I asked my first husband to build a dry-stacked stone wall. He didn't.

I asked the next live-in to build a dry-stacked stone wall. He didn't.

I asked the current spousal unit to build a dry-stacked stone wall. He didn't.

 
And so I finally built it myself. 

I've always been capable of doing it, but that's not the point. The point is, and what I'll never forget or forgive, is how much easier it would have been if one of those men had deigned to use their male strength to lift and stack the stones. 

What I'll never forget or forgive is how none of those men would give me something I asked for and wanted badly enough to actually ask them to do it for me. I'll never understand why they never said they wouldn't do it, they just never did. Lazy, perhaps? Controlling me? I think so. 

That resentment is something I need to let go of. I did it myself. Maybe it was the universe driving home the point I can't depend on any man. 

But the universe has rewarded me with some autumn flowers. After the wall was built, I hopped on the John Deere 1023 and backfilled with some good composted soil, and scattered the contents of a few cheap seed packets on the fresh dirt. The results were slow to develop, but here at the end of 2020, I have zinnias and cosmos blooming. It's a pleasing sight to come home to. 

Next spring, I'll scatter seeds again and see what happens. And woe to the man who makes any comment, even to say I was right and the flowers on top of the wall are nice to see. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor