Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Thursday, November 14, 2019

MY HYDROPHONICS LETTUCE GARDEN


I started thinking about doing this a while ago, but with the house remodel the first year here, and Bob’s hospitalization/physical death last Fall/Winter … my indoor hydroponics lettuce garden was postponed until today.

My Hydroponics Lettuce Garden.

And I didn’t do it too big this time: if it ‘takes’ & flourishes, I’ll add more jars to the window sills (I have 6 more spacious sills I can utilize ;-)

Bob did good when he bought this house – he actually insisted on this particular house (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2017/06/new-home-d.html); I wasn’t so sure … it needed A LOT of work – floors torn out and replaced with wooden flooring to keep my environmental asthma manageable; a new roof with rebuilt customized skylights because the old ones were weather worn and starting hairline cracks – and the new kitchen flooring and cupboards had to be replaced when the ‘fridge ice maker sprung a leak. But, Bob insisted this was {the house} he wanted. So, we bought it, made it ours … and within a years’ time, the egomaniac next-door neighbor and little hitler Park Manager had killed my husband with their petty and ridiculous non-stop bitching.

18 months after moving here, I was a Widow. Over stupid shit that means nothing to anyone except ron cook & candy scott. Jealous and dictator S.T.U.P.I.D.S.H.I.T. with no basis is reality.

And after at least 3 attempts to sell & move, I have finally come to the realization that regardless of Bob’s killers still on the premises here, all avenues for selling and moving has been cut off: I am gong to suck it up, hunker down, and make a stand to build a life here. In the house my husband provided for me – as he told me to do in December 2018, before he lost the ability to talk. I will learn to see in color again; myself: family members are broken people – they can’t see in color any better than I can: there are no reliable shades of color to find among them and work into my life ... those tears in the fabric of family tapestry will have to be reworked by them in their own lives before I will ever again try to patch them into my life tapestry. I am done with nightmare scenarios in which I find myself constantly running around in circles like a chicken with its head cut off.

I am starting, in small ways, to build a solo life for myself that incorporates some of Bob’s memory in it; and honors the life we shared, without becoming a morose walking shrine to a life that has run its course. I think that is a healthy way to see it and move forward …

Cheryl & Pam are coming for a visit tomorrow afternoon; and my BIL Kerry, may also stop by to bring back my rain barrels and barrel stands. I will need those back, now that I am staying here
https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/10/courage.html.

I felt bad asking for them back … but, Kerry understands. Those barrels cost Bob his life: they are a tangible connection to the life my husband gave his life to provide me with here. It may not make sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to Kerry & I (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2018/12/that-woman.html & https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2018/12/goodbye-2018-welcome-2019.html).

I like to garden: Bob knew that, and provided me with outdoor gardening areas; and a home with roomy window sills, lots of big windows, and overhead skylights. This really IS the “perfect home” for me.

So, I set up my Hydroponics Lettuce Garden a few minutes ago :-D

Washed Yogurt cup I am utilizing for a ‘hydroponics holding cup’.
One of Bob's razor cutters ... it doesn’t bother me now to touch the things he touched. At first, when my grief was so new and raw, I couldn’t. But now, it gives me a sort of comfort.
Preparing the holding cup ...
I used my little screwdriver set to poke a hole in the bottom of the sliced-sides yogurt cup. I inverted the flimsy cup over a small bottle for stability and then poked it.
A smidgen of Miracle Grow in a quart of water to barely color the water; holding cup submerged ¼ - inch.
MOD Crochet Mason Jar Covers to keep algae at bay
A Jiffy Seed seeding pallet dropped into the improvised holding cup.
Wet soil loosened & Lettuce seed planted: Tom Thumb & Deer Tongue lettuces for starters.
A foil collar placed loosely around the seeding pellet. Hopefully the foil will help keep overhead light at a minimum to stave off algae.
Brightly covered hydroponic jars placed in window. Herbs in the forefront (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/10/herbs-sorrowing-slide-show.html).

I like fresh veggies that I grow myself. If this works, like it is supposed to work, I may do more jars with a varied seeding – I certainly have the room … and the time … for it ;-)

And now, I am going to tidy the house in preparation for the visits tomorrow; it will feel good to have talk and laughter in the house again :-D

FEVER


When I was in Middle School, we could go to the Library and listen to LP's with headphones when our class lessons were done early ... I got my work done lickety-split so I could rush to the Library and listen to Mark Lindsey ;-)
Fever, Kicks, and Stepping Stone was my favorite songs.
Though Bob was out of my reach, the thought of his face still fired my jets.
And I had a dream.
And, 7 years after seeing his face and knowing him only as "The Face", he came into my life and made my dream a reality.
That man gave me fever for 52 years.


  
  
  

The fire still burns ...

A MILLION YEARS ~ A MILLION NIGHTS


{All of the lonely nights; longing to hold you tight … waiting for you to come, bringing your love to me}
I did not wait a million years for Bob to come into my life, bringing all his love to me; but I did wait a loooong time. While my heart never let me forget ‘The Face’, I got on with life: I grew up. I dated and waited for a spark to catch flame … the sparks always faltered and eventually faded to dead coals. And I could never bring myself to say, ‘I love you’ to anyone, no matter how close a shave it was. I didn’t love them. I loved only ‘The Face’.
Only Bob.


Always only Bob.
And I will wait a million years if that is what it takes to bring him back into my life again. I don’t care if things will be different from what we have known when he walked here on Earth with me, and loved me like a man – I want to SEE him again. I want to HEAR him again. I want to TOUCH him again. Even if only in passing.
My leaking eyes are starved for “The Face”.