thebrendablog

Oh Glorious Day

My neighbor gave me a fern that's supposed to do fine in the sun. I love the delicate, fine tendrils.

A frog lazing in the sunshine splayed out on a rock, sunning himself.

Seashells by the seashore. Oh, sorry. Pond.

Cobalt glass poking up against the fence, mirroring the light.

And windchimes sending soft music throughout the garden. What a glorious day.

Friday In The Garden

A lazy daisy Friday in the garden.

Trimming tree limbs, dragging them out of the yard.

Smiling at orange blooms in the courtyard.

Sitting next to the pond. Listening to the water and enjoying the cool breeze. Visiting with neighbors and trading plant starts. Being thankful for blogging friends and health and all that matters.

Have a wonderful weekend in the garden. Or wherever your bliss takes you.

Sunny Bedroom Redo

The bedroom has new yellow paint and laminate floors (which I absolutely love, by the way. They came in sections and clicked into place.) I'm not pleased with the lamps, and am considering having some mounted on the wall. I do a lot of reading at night before bed. Abi, of course, sneaked into the photo opportunity.

I need some advice, fellow bloggers. The rollers beneath the bed slip around when nudged up against. A woman in a store said to get some of that no-slip drawer liner. I did, and cut it up into small squares and placed them underneath the bed. It worked. But, Charlie and Abigail think it's mighty fun to rip the squares out from underneath and play tug-of-war with them. Anybody got any other suggestions?

As this room has no windows, I thought yellow would perk it up some.

And how about a reading corner near the bookshelves I brought in from the living room? These are the resin wicker chairs I had outdoors for several years. I hosed them down and brought them in. I made all the pillows years ago and had them languishing in the garage. (Yes, I hand-sewed all those little squares and yo-yos on the pillows! And quilted the miniature bowtie quilt.)

The round mirror I had in the guest room, which has to be redone due to the plumbing problem. I hot-glued mother-of-pearl buttons onto it. And there's the TV I took out of my garden room.

This is an old sewing machine table I bought at a junk store here in town. It has a butcher block top. I think I paid around $30 for it at Shabby Shack. The bowl and pitcher is something I picked up at a discount store for under $5. And this sign says it all. Now, at least in this room, I have tranquility and peace of mind.

The matching outdoor chair is adjacent to the bed. I just love these laminate floors. They look so rustic, but clean so easily. I "googled" how to clean laminate floors, and it said use 1/2 cup distilled white vinegar to one gallon warm water. The floors were somewhat slippery until I mopped them in this solution.

How about some antique linens hanging alongside the bed? I've been collecting these for awhile. Picked up the little stand at the same junk store. I think I got it for a few dollars.

What is it about cats and baskets? Here is Charlie nosing up to Clyde, who just wants to be left alone, thank you very much. Bonnie and Clyde both plop into any basket left momentarily empty!

It's raining buckets today, so I suppose I won't be gardening. I think I'll curl up in the chair and do some reading. 

Fairy Gardens At Blue Moon

On Saturday I decided a drive to Blue Moon Gardens was in order. They have the best eye candy of any garden nursery I've ever had the pleasure of visiting.

Of course there are the customary pots and birdhouses and plant markers. Wouldn't you love this mosaic basin?

And water features and whimsical creatures...

The ambience is wonderful, being on such a big piece of land in the country. Blue Moon Gardens is spread out on six acres. They have several buildings dotted about the property.

   

But perhaps one of the most delightful things there are their miniature Fairy Gardens. They hold workshops on how to create these little beauties. And they sell all the elements necessary to create your own.

Have you seen anything more precious than this?

I just have to go out there one of these days and take one of their classes. And learn how to build one of these magnificent creations and feature it out in my gardens.

If you're in the East Texas region, make a trip out to Chandler. You won't be sorry. They also have a garden club to join. And a wonderful website. www.bluemoongardens.com. And when you're done shopping, or maybe before, drive on down the road to the Edom bakery or cafe and have lunch. There is a guy with a shop there in Edom who builds fantastic birdhouses too.

Get some friends together and make this a day in the country, eat some good food, and meet the ladies who own Blue Moon Gardens.

Bring In The Clowns

It is time to bring in the clowns. Or the Renoir. If you're reading this and not writing it, that is. I had all this typed in, and the dogs needed to go out. I figure, I don't need to hit "save draft," as I will be back in less than five. You got it. I lost the whole thing. I won't make that mistake again.

I am making a lot of mistakes lately. I hire people who can't seem to get the work done. I must be a sad judge of character. Yesterday, the carpenter decides not to show up to continue putting down the floors in the hall and bedroom. He hasn't gotten around to the leak in the bathroom, other than to slap some white stuff on a piece of tile. Meanwhile, gnats are busy buzzing through my house, and I have mold. I had grown impatient and already taken a screwdriver and hammer and taken off the baseboards in the two adjoining rooms to investigate further. Yep, more black stuff. At least now it is in the open.

I had to get someone else to drive my Meals On Wheels route, as now I had to get a plumber to come out. Seems something called a union must be replaced. The cold water has apparently been leaking there for some time. The drywall, which the builder 27 years ago didn't put water barrier on or with or behind or some such thing, is finito. The tiles on the tub surround will now begin to fall off. So my husband must work even more hours (or else share a bathroom with me for a long time) to pay for a new wall, new paint and new tile. In a bathroom that has bare walls and floors already.

Late in the afternoon, my incommunicado carpenter has his assistant phone me from his cell phone, which has been unavailable to me thus far today, to tell me they've encountered some sort of emergency. And they cannot come today as promised. How kind of them. It is 3:30 p.m. Who would have thought? His "boss" has gone to get supplies of some sort and could not be the one to call. Sorry. They will be here first thing this morning. Which of course they aren't.

I've grown chummy with said carpenter's wife, as she's asked me for a job reference and likes to drop by. So this will not fly with me today. I figure they were holed up in a bar. I know his penchant for a drink. But I thought that was perhaps better than the other two who worked here recently. One of which is still in jail awaiting trial.

Okay, it gets even better. Then the cable guy arrives. It seems the TV from the garden room, which I put in the bedroom to replace the one I gave to the carpenter and his wife, isn't working. The cable guy discerns that "a creature" up in my attic has chewed through the cables. Terminix has not been able to capture this particular culprit yet. And I'm not even going up there.

I will drag out carpet, pull up carpet nails, trim tree limbs, fix what I can. But no, not that dreaded attic with some sort of "creatures" running around in it.

My husband has taken a well-deserved break and has driven the ninety miles to Dallas to relax for the weekend. I thought I would be at one with silence with my self-made table water fountain burbling in the background. And I would have floors to walk on in at least the bedroom and hallway. But so far that isn't happening.

And just to give you the latest update: Bonnie the white cat apparently grew a little too curious at 6 a.m. this morning about the Renoir (no, not a real one of course) I had placed against the wall on the other side of my bathroom to hide the dark hole where the plumber carved it to fix the leak. I hear a loud crash and the dogs get hysterical, thinking their little ten pound Yorkie bodies can hinder an intruder. Now I have had the good sense to put the Renoir back up against the hole in the wall. And I have positioned a very heavy toolbox up against that. On the cement floor. A Renoir (though fake) on a cement floor against a hole in the wall. Isn't that a gem of a thought?

And finally, now that it is 10 a.m., I reach the carpenter. Seems his wife didn't think she'd have enough coffee this morning and sent him out to buy some more. He's just running a little late. And then he'll have to pick up the assistant who doesn't know how to do anything yet and sort of stands around waiting to go fetch things. I know it isn't really that late yet. But it sure seems like it when you're awakened promptly to the loud crash of your Renoir hitting the cement floor.

Oh, and I must add this. They just arrived. As they backed into the driveway, I was loading my old garage sale dresser (bought nine years ago and decoupaged) onto a dolly. I had taken my hammer and fixed it. I had planned on giving it, of course, to the carpenter and his wife. As the assistant gets out of the truck and runs to help me, I say, "No, I've got it."

"Decided to keep it?" he asks me.

"Yes," I say. "Since I had to pay a plumber $320 to fix the leak and now will have to take the whole wall down. Yes."

I am met with men-in-awkward-stance silence. I haul it in, scratching the newly painted woodwork and door in the process. I take it to the bedroom on the dolly and set it down. I am now, of course, on the computer, incommunicado, behind closed doors in my garden room. Silent.

And everyone who knows me, knows that when I get silent, Mama isn't happy. And when Mama isn't happy, ain't nobody happy.