Two Anniversaries Approach ...

The first of these anniversaries is Dixie Lee's upcoming 13th birthday -- a celebratory occasion -- which will be on August 1st if she is able to stay the course for the next four weeks.  For a dog her large size (Rhodesian Ridgeback), 13 is very old. She has been at varying degrees of deafness for the past couple of years (sometimes her hearing briefly seems to partially return); she has cataracts that are quite progressed; she has small bumpy growths on various body parts that her vet and I are reluctant to tamper with because giving her anesthesia at this stage of her life would be risky.  I know that sounds perversely comical as she could slip away at any moment during a nap. 

She sleeps a lot; she loves to eat; she has maintained the utmost ladylike hygiene.  Always an "aloof" dog (her breed description very accurately uses the word "aloof"), she has never been aggressive ... until now.  I think she has become fearful.  When people come to the house now, I need to put her in my/her bedroom where she remains quiet and content.

The other anniversary that I will privately observe, is the upcoming 7th anniversary of the church shooting at TVUUC.  At five years, the church (perhaps rightfully) decided that there would be no future observances.  For me, there is so much that permanently affected me -- emotionally of course. And physically -- the residuals are rather constant reminders.  Most importantly, spiritually ... in the months and years that followed the event, a part of me awakened and helps me live my life, has helped open the door for beauty and appreciation and gratitude.

So the day is one that is meaningful for me.  Last year on the sixth anniversary, I walked in my favorite local park where there are lots of trees. Trees, I find, are so able and willing to absorb human sorrows and to reflect human joys ... and to offer strengthening energies.  My walk was one of meditation and gratitude; then I visited with my dear friend and we talked of gentle and beautiful things and had tea.

Fiona the Ficus Tree –

Brought home (to my previous residence) barely alive years ago, on a rescue mission from a place where I worked part-time, the little ficus waif is now a big, beautiful tree, decked out this year with multi-colored lights in my music room window. Her name is Fiona.

Oak Leaf Friday –

Yesterday I spent the entire day clearing out oak leaves that had covered my flower beds, wedged themselves between, over, and under the gazillion rocks that border the walkway and garden, carpeted the front lawn, and tangled themselves intricately in the branches of my shrubs. Did I neglect to do leaf removal in the autumn? No, it had been thoroughly done by a handyman leaf service in November and again in January. Do I have oak trees? No, but the large yard perched on an incline across the street has oak trees. Why am I writing about this? Just to vent, I guess. The people who live there watch ever so gleefully each year as tons of oak leaves swirl, dance, and gust from their yard into their neighbors’ yards, those adjoining and those that are here on the downslope across the roadway. I’ve seen the oak owners strolling around their yard, winking at the brown, crispy leaves and waving "bon voyage". The "plus" is (and this is really a stretch but I was determined to find a plus) in finding that sometimes the bogged-down leaves have insulated a tender plant or an interesting caterpillar from the winter cold.

Mid-April Cold In East Tennessee

Here in Knoxville, we managed to avoid a replay of last year’s April hard freeze (when every tree’s new leaves and flowers totally froze, turned brown and crispy, and fell to the ground). Following a couple of weeks of balmy, warm weather, it turned raw, rainy and cold this past week; the rain was followed by several nights of freeze warnings, as a cold weather system settled in.

So out of the closets came the bedsheets, beach towels, and quilts to cover the azalea, lilac, mock orange, newly-planted blueberry bush, and flowers. Into the house came the hanging baskets of flowers and the houseplants that had been so happy to go back outside on the porch when the balmy weather had showed up two weeks before. My house looked like a jungle for three days with all the plants camping in! Although we got awfully close to freezing temperatures outdoors, thankfully, things hovered just above that mark and plant-life was spared ... even my treasured smoke tree (which was too large to cover).

While I’m talking about plants, I’ll mention that I’m looking for a good home for a two-year-old maple tree; I grew this tree from its spinner seed. It’s in a grower’s pot, is about 3 feet tall and very nicely shaped. I have no space in my yard for another shade tree. This tree would like to get into the ground this season.

Nostalgia

This past Sunday I had to drive across town to meet with a friend. I allowed a bit of extra time so I could stop in the Hallmark store there (where I often shopped when I lived in that area). With about 20 minutes to spare after Hallmark, I drove past my former house and property to view "my" (they’ll always be mine) trees. With about two acres of what was partially wooded when I lived there (the new people are cutting things down), I’d planted many additional trees, mostly ornamentals, and named each of them. So I had to drive around the block three times so I could cruise by from different angles and check on Brenda, Maggie, Gerald, Clara, Harry, Marc, and all the others. Sadly, one of them (none of the above-named) had died, probably from last summer’s drought. It was still a young tree and would have needed some watering to survive the severity of the drought. Nostalgia is such a bitter-sweet thing, isn’t it?