Maples 2. Spinstermiss 0.

Well, this is embarrassing. I have not done one scrap of yard work this entire summer.

The good news is that I have watched a tremendous number of gardening shows on HGTV and that other newer hip network whose name constantly escapes me. You know, they have a lot of international programming. So instead of filling a planter with about a gallon of potting soil there's some metric reference like liters or mms.

Yesterday I saw a show devoted to planter gardens, and I totally want to do that. At some point. Speaking of planters. My sprouty daisy-looking perennials don't look like they're going to make it until next year. I'm thinking if I let those plants die, then I can use those v. nice containers for something a little less leggy looking next year.

But at this point, I really just want to read mysteries, lounge, and NOT train for the 5K I've signed up to do in September. (What is the inner meaning that my initial spelling was sighed up?)

The good news is, the maple sprouts seem to be battling it out in a turf war, so there do seem to be fewer of them.

The bad news is that they seem to be coming closer to the house. I hope that they're not coming for me.

Maples 1, Spinstermiss 0

Yesterday I was like the Algerian soccer team. Bursting out of my front door, I was filled with cocky fervor, certain that in no time every baby sprouted maple that had wedged between the pavers on my patio and taken root would be dead in no time.

This morning, I realize the maple trees are like the U.S. soccer team: enduring, strong, and determined to survive.

After a liberal coating with ground clear spray last night, I expected to see withered carcasses ready to be plucked and dumpstered. Instead, there they were, growing in the hot morning sun and laughing at me.

Laughing!

Now this means war.

But it's too nice to work

Yeah yeah yeah. This is going to be some grand girly construction site someday. The whole problem is when it's nice enough to do your projects, it's really too nice to be doing your projects. And when it's not nice enough to do your projects, well it's impossible to do your projects.

So instead of doing projects, I'm going to project my chunky butt to the beach this weekend.
Mmmm. Good times.

Meanwhile, there is a grove of maples popping out of my paver patio. It was cute a first. But now they're getting kind of big and blocking the way to the grill. Which is ok, because I'm still a little concerned about blowing myself up while installing a new gas bottle (tank? holder? whatever).

What is the chance that I could find a roommate? Maybe 20something. Male. Buff. Quiet. Loves to clean. Loves to cook. Can't get enough of taking out the trash and cleaning the litterbox out. Oh yeah, and he'd cover the entire mortgage payment.

With those criteria, my sister doesn't have to worry about planning bridal showers for me in the future!

Spreading my wings

I love all five followers, but I have a lot more love in my heart to share with others. So here's a new following tool...
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Getting Started

I'm not one much for getting started on a project. Particularly when there are couches to be lounged upon and books to be read. But I realized that part of my truly embracing spinsterhood is to truly make my home MY home.

In the three years I've had my townhouse, I've become an expert at toilet repair because my toilets are not good and yet I become accustomed to flushing them on a regular basis. As a result, my mastery of life skills includes not only the ability to use semicolons correctly, but also to repair toilet chains, flushers, and those black bubble looking things as well.

But that's about it. For nearly every other repair I've waited for my father to make a space in his very full schedule to help me out. Now that he's almost 70 and I'm still relatively young, it doesn't seem right to make him do all of my work for me. Now I just have to decide what to do first. Inside or outside? Hmmm. I'm making my decision today and getting to work on my first project this week.

Six months later...

So I don't do terrifically well in the winter. I intend to do so many things, but generally I spend the time from January through June in a reflective phase creating a mental to do list. Which I have completed and now all that remains to be seen is how much of the to-do list gets to the done list.

Which, frankly, has not been my strong suit in the past. But my plans for this blog and this summer are going to work together. When I created Spinster Miss it was going to be a spot where women of a certain age who live without the luxury of a helpmeet in life could go to find inspiration and direction. Kind of like Oprah if she wasn't rich, famous, successful, or really confident that her life's decisions were the right ones.

In the coming weeks I'm going to get started on a few projects around my home and will share my experiences, for better and more likely for worse and we'll see how this whole being a grown up girl on her own goes.

Remember me?

Just got back from my alma mater, touring with my beloved niece and sister. What a step back in time. And while I was there I ran into a couple of my old professors. Who actually remembered me! How can that be? I wonder if they keep file cards and quiz themselves periodically to keep their memories alive.

All of a sudden I remembered that there were tons of good times in college and it wasn't all that lousy last semester of senior year when I quit everything and crawled into bed for four months and no one really noticed. By the time I graduated, I had no desire to see any of the people who plainly weren't seeing me. Which is just so dramatic, as you can be at 21.

Now I regret losing touch with everyone. It's one thing to be a spinster miss. It's another thing entirely to be a hermit miss.

That was not part of the plan.

As a result, I've joined a social group of like-minded individual and attending my first gathering tomorrow. Gulp.

And I'm resolved to remember the happier times, get out into the greater world, and not get all Miss Havishammy and dwell on the relatively small speed bumps live has dealt me.