Frustration and The Ides of March

 How to explain what's going on? Caesar, beware the Ides of March! Wait...wasn't that a pop group back in the late 1960s or early 1970s? Yes, it was. Look 'em up. They had, as far as I know, one hit entitled Vehicle. It's on my playlist. 

This time of year feels like a dead zone. I can't get outside because it's too windy which makes it too chilly. It's driving me crazy, too. I have things to do to ready my little garden space, things I WANT to do. And one can only do so much housework and laundry. Then there's the fact that since I can't get outside, I can't make a video. It's very frustrating. 

Even Deuce is feeling it. The dog is clearly bored. It's too cold for an old dog to go for a long walk because he wants to wade in the creek. NO. I can't allow that. His arthritis would flare up. So we nap. We are well caught up on our sleep. 

But I live in hope. March is half over. It's time to start seeds. May first is six weeks out - the time young plants can be put in pots, buckets, and planters for the season. And here I sit - blogging. I really am in a funk I do not want to be in. 

I think time is the only cure. Once this next batch of cold weather is over, I think I can get going with everything. 

Trust me. I can barely contain my excitement. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manon/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, weather, spring, gardening, frustration, country lifestyle, rural living, seedlings, black Lab Retriever, a writer's life

Tree topping in Triple H weather - not advised

I've been a bit MIA lately, and that's because I've been working with the cousin in Triple H weather. That's hazy, hot, and humid in case you don't live in the Mid-Atlantic region and don't know. I can only work for a couple of hours at a time when I'm on my own. If I get heat stroke, I'll lie there and be dead before someone misses me. We don't want that to happen! 

My property is a three-acre lot and two of those acres are wooded. That's fine. I like trees. The only thing that beats shade in the summer is central air in the house. But I digress...

Back in 1981 the trees were not this big. They grew, and some of them became uncomfortable neighbors. Cousin Dave and I rented a "cherry picker" lift and topped out six of them. I'm in the midst of cleaning up the brush so we can cut firewood rounds. It's going to take many, many, many days to get it all finished, but in the end, our firewood rounds stockpile will be in good shape. 

Deuce has a bit to say about the lift we rented. He was not impressed. https://deucesday.blogspot.com/2025/07/whats-this-thing.html

Years ago, I began to post short videos so my husband could see what was happening around the manor in places he could no longer physically get to. There were also dog vids, and vids of walks and such, all posted in the hope he'd feel included. 

After he passed, I pondered whether or not to start a more intense video project, and to that end I've been recording my activities on the manor. My YouTube channel is called The Hideaway Between the Keys, and as with all things, Google knows where to find me. I think YouTube has changed up some things and it's now youtube.com/@KCKendricks. I think. I'm still figuring a lot of "stuff" out. 

I'll have upcoming videos of the tree trimming and cleanup, as well as some general gardening and general manor activity vids. It really is my life unscripted. 

But back to the Triple H weather, I'm pretty much done for the day with outside work. I grabbed the chainsaw around 7:15 AM and worked clearing the brush from the top of one of the downed maples until the sunshine stole the shade from me. I'll go at it again tomorrow morning. Once I have the smaller, lighter brush removed, the cousin will return with his big saw and finish the heavier work. Sooner of later, it'll all get done and I'm fine with that. My plan is to get to the end goal without giving myself a heat stroke. 

Good plan!

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, KC Kendricks, YouTube, country lifestyle, rural living, tree trimming, firewood, weather, heat stroke, Milwaukee chainsaw, John Deere 1023

March crocus and March winds

My mother's garden was full of little "snow" crocus. I'm not sure how she accomplished it! I've tried to get the smaller varieties established on the manor but to no avail. This property seems to support the larger varieties, and that's really okay. 

Years ago I planted a row along the eastern side of the patio and finally - finally! - this year they really put on a bit of a show. I wish the Lord of the Manor was here to enjoy it with me. 

It seems strange that I've spent over forty years planting bulbs all over the place and I still don't seem to have enough crocus, daffodil, tulips, snow glories, and bluebells. I've reconciled myself that I never will have my woods full of daffodils, or if I do, I'll be dead before I see it again the next spring. Such is life. 

Today was the classic March day - rain, wind, sunshine, snow squalls, fluffy white clouds, blue sky, and then do it all over again. I hated to go outside in the wind, but the Lord of the Manor is in rehab for physical therapy and I'd promised him coffee from home. Now that I've returned home, I think a cup of tea in front of the wood stove may be in order.  

March always brings a mixed bag of weather that can be frustrating to those living in rural areas. I, and many others, are eager to be outside preparing for a garden and tidying the yard. A cold, wet, and windy March doesn't lend itself to such activities. 

Some days my outside activities are no more than walking around the property and observing what is blooming. And some days, that's enough.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, March, crocus, daffodils, bulbs, country lifestyle, rural living, gardening, yard work, tea, coffee, weather

Press the pause button, albeit unwillingly

Happy May Day! The Celts called this day Beltane and it was, I believe, their most important day of the year. It might be a pagan holiday, but these days, we need to remember that regardless of the different places we come from and the different things we believe that we're on the journey together. 

So. That wasn't on topic for today. Today I'm commiserating about the weather. It's the first of May and it's cold and damp outside. I had to press the pause button on all my outside activities, which didn't please me or Deuce. He's one bored pup at the moment. No long walks or car rides. No playing in the cold creeks. No squirrels running about the backyard. No work in the garden beyond a visual check which resulted in dispatching one green worm today. eewwww.  

Is our rainy, cloudy weather the result of the eruption of Shiveluch, a Russian volcano, on April 11? I haven't heard The Weather Channel mention it. Is it just our normal May weather? May and June are my area's historically wettest months with rainfall. It may be wet, but the temperatures are holding up, staying in the fifty+ Fahrenheit range, so my tomatoes and begonias are fine. 

Around three o'clock this afternoon, a bit of sunshine broke through, and Deuce and I went out for a brief stroll around the yard. It's a mixed bag out there. The daffodils are over, the one really early daylily is trying to bloom, the purple lilac has a couple of blooms, and the old-fashioned brown/yellow iris from my great-grandmother's garden has popped up a few buds. Along the front deck runway, the peonies are showing some promise, too. 

This brief pause won't last long. The clouds, be they regular or volcanic, will soon blow away. The sunshine will return in full force and the outside work will resume. Whether we like it or not, that's the way of weather. We simply need to be patient. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, peonies, gardening, weather, rural living, country lifestyle, Labrador Retrievers, a writer's life, iris, daffodils

Feeling stymied

Stymied: To be an obstacle to; prevent the advancement or success of; thwart or stump: weather that stymied attempts to locate the missing hikers; a math problem that stymied half the class. 

I feel stymied by our wonderful weather. The sky is blue, the sun is bright, the grass is greening-up, the breeze is blowing, and it's a mere 45F outside. It rained yesterday and the ground is damp. 

I can't mow, I can't dig in the too-wet dirt, I can't set the begonias out on the porch for another round of hardening-off. 

But there is hope! Tomorrow, if all goes as predicted, I'll be able to cross off a lot of items on my To Do List. I'll be able to mow (or maybe convince the Lord of the Manor to do it), get the begonias to the greenhouse, plant sugar snap pea seeds outside in a few grow bags, sow a row of spring onions in the raised bed, and plant a few seeds in starter packs once the begonias are out of the way. I may even make a quick trip to the landfill if Himself is willing to do a few things for me this afternoon. 

I'm definitely feeling frustrated this spring. There are so many things to do, that I want to do, and I need to wait out the weather, at least until tomorrow.

Tomorrow's 10-day forecast is a beacon of hope. After tonight, there is only one night that the temperature dips into the thirties (Fahrenheit). Since my little greenhouse isn't heated, I plan to cover the begonias at night with an old sheet for the next little while anyway, so it'll still work for me. 

There are, of course, things I could do today if I had more of a domestic bent. Housekeeping and laundry have never excited me the way being outside does. I'd probably die if forced to live in the "concrete jungle." I do enjoy home food preservation, but I don't have any canning projects lined up. 

I'll figure today out soon. I'm never stymied for very long. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, gardening, home food preservation, rural living, weather, greenhouse, country lifestyle, a writer's life, Greenstalk, seeds, sugar snap peas, seed trays, 

Rainy day views

daffodils in the rain

One would think that having reached this stage of my life, a truly rainy day wouldn't bother me. Usually, it doesn't, but this year I'm anxious to be outside working on gardening chores. There is still much to do. At least I can do a few things today, inside in the dry.

The Beefsteak tomato seedlings are ready to transplant from the sprouting tray to larger containers. I'm not fancy with this. I use plastic cups that are rinsed out each year and reused. Four-inch black plastic pots were more expensive, so NO. I didn't go that route. 

Our rain today is the kind that has settled in, complete with fog and distant thunder. From my desk, I can gaze out at the daffodils and marvel at how bright and cheery they are in the rain. I'll enjoy them today because this rain will beat the blooms and by tomorrow they will have faded. 

rainy day office view

Looking out the office door, I can watch the raindrops bounce on the deck boards and see them splatter on the window. The earth needs a good soaking rain and yet I wish it would come in showers that I could work between. We humans are never satisfied, and I should be. Where I live, this could easily have been a snow event, winter's last hurrah as it were. 

But there is hope! The weather radar map shows the actual rain passing in a few hours. I still won't be able to work outside because the ground will be too wet and squishy. I tell myself to stop fretting about it, that I'm retired now and am not constrained to getting everything done on the weekend, but a lifetime of habits and that worker-bee mindset are not always easy to set aside. 

I should console myself with working on the current manuscript, but my heart is outside, in my garden space, and writing prose when my heart isn't in it has never worked for me. It would be better if I take my cup of tea to my comfortable reading chair and just enjoy the sound of the rain on the roof. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, rural living, country lifestyle, rain, snow, weather, a writer's life, radar map, gardening, tomatoes, transplanting seedlings 

How does water escape the earth?

Water does not escape the earth. While H2O can break down when "attacked" by UV radiation, it's the diatomic hydrogen that can achieve escape velocity. When the breakdown happens, oxygen becomes ozone which is bound by gravity to the earth. So scientifically speaking, water does not leave the planet. 

And this matters....why?

The Lord of the Manor was watching a broadcast this morning that was supposedly about the weather. Instead of getting the weather, we got a pack of political activists. Their latest schtick is about conserving water. That's a great idea for people who live in California! I sure don't want them coming east to try and get mine. 

Mine is several hundred feet underground and naturally filtered. It is returned to the ground and once again naturally filtered as it continues onward. 

Out here in the country, I don't know of any entity other than the local State Park that wastes or pollutes water. I'm serious. Country folk - old-time country-raised folk - don't waste much of anything. Yes, we tend to bathe every day, but we work and we need to get clean. We're not Hollywood. We don't like to brag about three-day-old body odor. We like soap. Hell, we can make our own! 

I'm not sure why the total idiocy I heard this morning annoyed me so badly. The condescending attitudes? The blatant inference that they are so much better than their country living viewers? The conviction that the way they live is the best way to live? The obvious belief that the common folk are too stupid to figure out ways to conserve on their own? 

And what about these rising sea levels? We know how to desalinate seawater. Why aren't western states investing in this as a way to provide more water to the people who live in the west? That would help solve two problems at once, wouldn't it? And sea salt as a by-product? Lots of people prefer sea salt. 

There was just something about the broadcast that set my teeth on edge. It did not ring true, and by that I mean I thought it lacked sincerity. It sounded like party-line propaganda. 

We are under attack. While conservation is necessary, it's now being used as a way to control the populace.

Awareness of a problem leads people to take steps in their own lives. We begin to take action, moving toward a goal knowing that even small changes make big impacts. Why is this not enough? It's about control and sometimes, like what I heard this morning, it's control by trying to cast blame and shame on others. And if we don't fall into step, they'll amp up their game. It's what liberals do - anything to win. 

LOOK at who is feeding you the weather and news reports. LISTEN to their message and ask why it's their message, who supports their message, and most importantly who BENEFITS from their message. 

Who benefits? Do you? It's something to consider. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

 

Bittersweet along the creek

Almost at the top of the mountain above the manor is a spring known locally as Joshua Spring. Twenty years ago, I could go to the spring and bring home a gallon of pure water. Then some idiot who likely still doesn't realize just how stupid they are dumped trash at the entrance to the spring. The State barricaded the lane to the spring and that was that for most folks who went there for pure water. 

We're luckier than some. Joshua Spring puts out enough water to form a creek that comes down the mountain to join with the creek running through the family property. I've occasionally stepped down into the Joshua Spring creek for a drink of that special water. I've also entertained ideas of creating a splashing spot for Deuce but that hasn't happened yet. Maybe soon. 

Bittersweet bushes and vines grow in abundance on the far side of the little creek. I don't know much about the plant except that the lovely red and orange berries are poisonous if eaten. Lots of autumn flower arrangements and wreaths contain bittersweet, but handling the dried berries is pretty harmless. 

On a recent walk, we noted the abundance of bittersweet berries this year. Our weather this summer was reminiscent of the summers when we were younger and we are aware of the sensitivity of plants to the weather. We think it's because the airplanes weren't flying as much due to the Covid-19 pandemic. I'm sure the experts would argue that, but there it is. I believe it, but then again, I dislike airplanes, especially the ones that fly over my corner of the world and drop pollution on my trees. 

It's been many years since a bittersweet wreath has graced my front door. My mother made the wreath I had, but time and sun damage eventually claimed it. Perhaps after the leaves have dropped I'll be brave and cross the creek, climb the rocky bank, and harvest just enough berries to make a new wreath. It will last for many, many years, and be a connection to my mother who got her berries from the banks of Joshua Creek. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

January thaw

My grandfather looked forward to the "January thaw." Where we live, it typically happens mid-month, and this year it arrived right on time. It lasts four to five days and is followed by our coldest days of the year. 

The January thaw gave Pop a few days to walk his property lines and attend to anything that needed to be done. He could read the weather signs, and he told me a few secrets about doing that. As soon as the thaw was over, Pop began studying the seed catalogs. It was time to plan the veggie garden. Indeed, my own thoughts turn to ways to successfully grow a tomato plant. 

Being Sunday, I made the most of the warm day. I opened the windows in my sunroom office and let the fresh air blow through. Some time was spent on the porch, admiring the clear blue sky. I was struck by the patterns and contrasts I could see from my quiet perch. 

In winter, the trees have a silent magnificence, their strength and structure on display. We enjoy their shade in summer but never see beyond the leaves. Stripped for a winter's sleep, they cast long, straight shadows across the ground. 

Winter is a time of discovery. The world laid bare is the world on display. I don't have time to despair the cold air and the threats of snow. 

It's easier to breathe. The air is heady when not laden with moisture. Being outside without sweating is invigorating.

I'll never be a "snowbird" and head for warmer climates when winter comes. I'm made of sterner stuff, like my grandfather. I see the world not as sterile and cold, but ready to renew and I wouldn't miss it for love nor money. 


The Lady of Holly Tree Manor