The biggest news around here is the house and the yard and all the work we're doing. Over the past six weeks or so we've pulled out all the hideous juniper in the front lawn, dug out new beds, amended the soil, and have begun to put in new shrubs. So far we've got: nandina (or heavenly bamboo); huechera (or coral bells), the purple variety; and golden barberry. I've planted a few seeds here and there--cosmos and sunflowers, silly things--but I don't know if I'll get to planting all the seeds I bought.

I sent away for plants for the first time, red twig dogwood bushes, which are leafing out quite nicely. I'll make a full list of the proposed plants here sometime soon.

Thanks to the miracle of home equity loans, and the simple fact that the paint is falling off the house in sheets, we're getting the house painted. Aaron is cracking me up. As soon as we'd accepted the bid from the painter, who came highly recommended and with whom we both feel very comfortable (I hope I'm not jinxing this), Aaron was practically dancing around the house he was so excited. We're finally going to have a presentable house, at least on the outside.

But of course, once you start one home improvement project, all those nasty little nuisances that you've ignored for years start rearing their ugly heads. Now that we're painting the exterior, we have to deal with the freakin' gutters and the fascia boards. Some fool cut all the rafter tails off of our Craftsman bungalow (if you know anything about this style of house you know that the rafter tails are one of the key details) and nailed an unfinished fascia board to stubs that were left. This means the gutters don't drain properly and the fascias are probably rotting. We'll get those estimates by the end of the week. Joy!

And speaking of rot, while Aaron was replacing some siding along the front porch he found dry rot in one of the wall studs. Fortunately, because he is such a stud himself, he was able to fix that. But he did have to go to Sears to buy a new miter saw first. Everyone feel sorry for Aaron.

And believe it or not, the neverending bedroom project is affecting the housepainting, too. Because we took out the windows in an attempt to strip the paint off of the woodwork, and because we failed and the windows were goners anyway, we have to buy new windows. We can't afford the copper chain windows we really want, but these ones will look like they belong to the house and they'll have double paned glass so they'll be more energy efficient. Now we just have to see if they'll be delivered in time to get painted by the pros, or if we'll have to do it ourselves.

My dad will be down this week and we plan to visit his high-school English teacher, the woman who is probably single-handedly reponsible for the fact that my dad turned out to be a functioning adult. We're going to go be garden geeks at her estate by the river. I haven't seen her or her garden in ten years, and, seeing as how she's well into her 80s now, I should go while I can.

I hadn't spoken to my dad in a long time before he called last weekend. He doesn't check his email--Margaret prints it for him--so I gave up on that. I did send him a book for his birthday. But after all my promises to stay in closer touch with him after his heart surgery last fall, I've failed miserably.

Of course, I've got all the same excuses. At Christmas, he was a complete bear. He yelled and pouted and was generally miserable to be around. Even though I knew this was probably a symptom of the recovery process, I used this episode as an excuse to shut him out. I have no idea why I insist on behaving like...like my dad would behave in this kind of situation. I know better. So much better.

It's cat central again around here. I'm now feeding eight abandoned cats on my front porch, thanks to my neighbor who decided at some point to stop feeding the two she had taken responsibility for. In addition, we're fostering three kittens, born to the only ferral female we haven't been able to get spayed. We tried to take them to the Humane Society the day we caught them, but, since it's kitten season, they refused them so we're waiting until they're old enough to take to one of the reputable pet shops.

They're about 8 1/2 weeks old now, and incredibly well adjusted and completely cute. We have no illusions about keeping them--ask me how I'd like to add four cat boxes to my collection--but it's fun to watch them explore the world and play their kitten games. Hallow and Friday, the permanent resident cats, are beside themselves. I think the babies will be finding their permanent homes in the next week or so.

- june 4