September 10, 2015 by Born To Organize

A Walk Through the Garden: The Drought Addition

It’s hard gardening in a drought.

It’s equally hard writing a blog about it without sounding all gloom and doom. (I’m saving my gloom and doom posts for Halloween).

Since we’ve all had it up to here with the drought, the heat, the save-the-air alerts and the raging fires here in California, writing about it seems as drab as my former lawn.

Bougainvillea love the dry heat. Lush lawns are a thing of the past.

Today, I’m shaking things up a bit with a garden video show and tell.

I created the video tour using my mobile phone with my family’s help. Mike followed me around the garden and took video, and my son, Mac edited the clips for the final production.

Instead of tidying up before the guests arrive, I present to you my unadulterated, much-loved, brown around the edges garden.

Without further ado, Gardening Nirvana: The Drought Addition

https://youtu.be/P3MbpxZW1BI

September 8, 2015 by Born To Organize

A Challenging Week

Do you ever write blog posts in your head?

I did that last week, craving the time and the mental bandwidth to free my thoughts with the tap-tap-tap of the keyboard. I knew my blog would be waiting for me but I missed it nonetheless. My idol keyboard tugged at my random thoughts, yet they declined to heed its call.

Put simply it was a long and trying week.

Last Monday I suited up in one-size-fits-no-one scrubs for a long-awaited MRI. Chronic and still un-diagnosed foot pain landed me in the clinic for this joyless procedure.

Have you ever had an MRI? The machine is loud enough to require earplugs, and a bit daunting in size and scope. It’s a fabulous diagnostic tool, but not something you want to incorporate into your day. I went in with a sore foot, and came home with that same sore foot and an aching back. In my next life I’m going to design medical equipment with a modicum of comfort in mind.

Although the results of the tests are available in two days, your doctor determines when you can see them. I dutifully made my appointment for late this week. They will not release my test results unless I meet with my doctor. Welcome to the American healthcare system.

Throughout the past several months my foot has been on the pointy end of a cortisone shot not to mention several acupuncture needles. I’ve tried heat and ice, massage, mobilization, manipulation and ultrasound, electrical stimulation and targeted exercises. They took a peek under the hood with a diagnostic x-ray and finally the MRI. This foot of mine has been the subject of speculation in my Pilates class and has received enough attention to warrant its own Facebook page. I fear that with all that attention my foot will only continue to swell.

Next up was a trip to the vet. Two of the three resident felines were due for a checkup. It’s kind of long story, but two of the kitties remain close to home thanks to our cat-fence enclosed yard. Mr. M. technically has a home, but prefers to eat, sleep, drink and make merry at our place, also known as the home for spoiled and wayward cats. It was his turn to go to the vet.

I’ve been taking cats to the vet for years, so I’ve learned a thing or two along the way. I try to keep it on the down low, hiding the cat carriers in the garage till go-time. Then I execute my stealth move: in one fell swoop I scoop up the cat, bow the head toward the chest, slip the cat into the carrier and close the door before they thinks about exposing teeth or claws.

So carriers at the ready, Mr. M. manages to slip out the back door and disappear at the appointed hour. I kitty-kitty-kitty him in my sincerest voice, shake bags of treats, walk up and down the street and even venture one block over. Nothing. I sit quietly on the garden swing (how can he resist) and still nothing. I realize that I’m going to be late.

I place a compliant Lindy into the carrier, then decide to take Slinky in Mr. M’s place and off we go. I arrive 15 minutes late, then wait another 15 minutes, and now I’m too late to see the vet who is about to start surgical rounds. Reluctantly I leave Lindy and Slinky in the vet’s care to be seen later in the day between rounds. Then I head to see my first client of the day.

Fast forward through two days, three round trips to the vet, multiple phone calls and a sleepless night and both kitties are finally back home. Lindy checked out well. Slinky on the other hand, who was at the vet by default, has a heart murmur, elevated thyroid and a painful and worrying hard growth on her spine. They said she cried out in pain with the exam so ordered an x-ray. Those results were inconclusive. She’s now home and on two medications, one to control her thyroid and the other to help with pain and inflammation. She goes back in another week to be sure her kidneys can tolerate the medication. My poor, sweet kitty.

Thursday my son announced that he would be moving into the dorms several days earlier than planned. He received an email that day from university housing saying that “students with disabilities” would move in on the 15th. I was stunned. We’ve been mentally preparing for the big day for months, and this news really threw me for a loop. When I asked to see the email, my heart sank. We have a painful and troubled relationship with the sender, one that dates back to grade school. I’ve been softly weeping on the back steps, trying to keep my feelings to myself. My son never met her, but she caused our family a good deal of grief. I’ll share in more detail when I can muster some emotional clarity. Right now I feel raw.

A week from today he’ll be off. Careful preparations have brought us to this day. I know he’s ready. I’m trying to ease the remnants of our traumatic past that continue to ricochet against my heavy heart. I want to be fully present when he crosses the threshold into the next chapter of his life.

January 26, 2015 by Born To Organize

Ladies and Gentlemen: The Rat has Left the Building

I’ve been dying to say that for weeks: the rat has left the building.

The End.

If you want the full story, please read on.

Mr. Rat is not a family ‘pet’ but a wild rat brought indoors against his will by one of our cats. Apparently he’s a tenacious and good-natured rat, willing to make the best of life in our abode. If you’ve been following along since late last year, you’ll know of the varied and unsuccessful eviction attempts . If not, you can catch up here and here.

Mr. Rat knows how to enter and exit live traps with impunity. My rodent nemesis ate the proffered peanut butter, set off the trap, yet somehow remained on the winning end of freedom.

The peanut butter is gone but the cracker remains

He lived under the dishwasher for a spell where he chewed through the electrical wiring. The appliance was out of commission for a week, but the rat wisely chewed through the grounded wire, avoiding certain electrocution.

At some point he moved into our entertainment center. It was warm and cozy there, so he started a nest sometime around Christmas. How else to explain the pretty colored paper shredded behind the receiver?

Mr. Rat hunkered down in the entertainment center

My husband Mike caught the rat between gloved hands during one of our attempts to liberate our furry guest. The rat squealed, Mike let go and another several weeks passed without a clue to the rat’s whereabouts.

Last week, Mr. Rat moved back to the entertainment center and I was sure victory would be mine. I had him cornered with the door flung open to the fresh air. The gentlemen from pest control assured me that the rat wanted to go outside.

After erecting a barrier blocking the living room and leading straight to the door, the rat apparently rounded the corner instead and disappeared. But…but…the door was wide open! This rat is terrible at following directions.

On the other side of the living room wall is a coat closet, a small guest bathroom and our laundry room. All sorts of new places to hide. Did I really leave the coat closet ajar?

Yes. Yes I did!

After gingerly removing coats, tablecloths, shoes and the like, it was clear that I’d been outsmarted by Mr. Rat once again. All my rat-hunting time was up, so I reluctantly left the house for the rest of day. When I returned home, my temporarily rearranged furniture was there mocking me.

Then around supper time, Mouse the cat revealed a clue. Mouse showed a new fascination with the toilet in our guest bathroom, just to the right of the coat closet. Could it be? With my son’s help, we placed a mirror behind the toilet and shone a flashlight into the back opening. Nothing. Yet the cat’s interest persisted.

Oh Mr. Rat! This is no way to live. The garden has so many opportunities for growth and enrichment. Why would you want to hang out under the cold recesses of a toilet?

On the plus side, Mr. Rat had nowhere else to go. I made another impromptu barrier along the face of the washer and dryer. We opened the exterior laundry room door to the cool, fresh, inviting night air. Mike removed the water valve, unscrewed the entire toilet from the floor and lifted it skyward.

The ugly side of liberating a rat

The rat dropped to the floor. Did he run toward the door? Of course not. He ran toward the sink, now blocked, then ran straight for me where he circled my ankles while I stood there stock still. Then and only then did he run out the door into the night.

I ran after him with my camera but he made a clean get away, which is more than I can say for the mess he left.

At long last, The End.

Mike celebrates our victory

January 22, 2015 by Born To Organize

Dogs Have Owners, Cats Have Staff

Don’t you love that expression? If you live with a cat, you know what I’m talking about.

I grew up with cats, though a stray dog or two crossed my path now and then. I once shared my cramped twin bed with an Irish Setter for a week before we located the dog’s owner. I was 12 at the time. Though I knew we couldn’t keep him, I burst into tears when we had to let him go.

I love all animals, but in my years of renting, living with cats made more sense. The number of cats in residence fluctuates, since word gets out; before you know it you’ve got six cat bowls lined up on the kitchen counter.

The current count is one husband, two teenage boys and three felines.

Okay, I strung that sentence together for the sake of diplomacy. The felines run the place and the rest of us fall in line.

Here’s the current line up:

Lindy-Lu is our senior feline. We adopted her from our local Humane Society when she was about three for my son’s 8th birthday. My son turns 18 this June. Lindy is mellow and sweet and loves to be near us, but she never sits on our laps.

Lindy in the Garden

She enjoys sleeping next to my pillow at night, or draped across the arm of the sofa. Lindy-Lu takes her cat naps at the foot of our bed or in the stream of sun on the living room floor, but when she’s ready to hunker down for a long sleep, she disappears into the bedroom closet for a long snooze. I’m careful to always keep the door cracked.

Lindy Practicing her Adorable Pose

Sunbathing on the bed

Slinky is our mystery cat. She’s borderline feral, and about 90% hard of hearing. She used to bite when startled and will take a swing at you if your hand moves in a suspicious manner.

Pet me…or else

It took a long time to coax her indoors, but after a year of living in a shelter in our side yard, she came to appreciate the comforts of indoor living. She now spends most of her time asleep on my desk.

Slinky does her neck exercises in front of the monitor

Slinky color-coordinates with her bed

Slinky is afraid of Lindy, poor little thing, but stands up to Mouse, even though he’s younger and twice her size. Slinky is a petite six pounds while Mouse weighs a whopping 16 pounds.

Mouse has an official home, but he doesn’t let on. He takes all his meals at our house, sleeps on our beds and generally makes himself comfortable.

Mouse in the garden

Mouse enjoys his catnip toy

He’s charmingly adorable. Mouse lives for treats, so I’m partly to blame for his expanded waistline. He collects kitty snacks from others as well, including my sister on her frequent visits.

Mouse lends moral support around homework time

Mouse has many admirers, and would probably be insufferable if he were a man and not a cat. He assumes everyone loves him, and frankly why wouldn’t they? If I could change one thing about him, it would be his stealthy hunting skills. He loves the game of catch and release.

This brings me to our fourth creature-in-residence, the elusive and cunning Mr. Rat. One of my boys noticed an overly attentive Lindy parked near the entertainment center this morning. After they left for school, Lindy backed away and Mouse took over. Here was my chance to show Mr. Rat the door.

Mouse on the alert; Lindy strolls past the barricade

I gathered boxes, boards, baskets and whatever I could get my hands on, then rolled up the carpet to make a barricade. I opened the door wide to the fresh air and knew I was ready. Meanwhile, Mouse single-mindedly entered and exited all the cabinet compartments, determined to find his prey. I mentally thanked him for ‘directions’ before putting him in one of the bedrooms.

It was time to make my move. Mr. Rat made a run for it. I stomped my foot hoping to startle him toward the door. He ran toward some potted plants instead and then disappeared right before my eyes. How can this be!!!

I stood there dumbstruck. How could a six-inch rat disappear so quickly?

For the record, I’m blaming it on the vertigo. How else to explain his disappearance.

Three different live traps and two direct interventions later, the score remains disproportionately in the rats favor. That’s what I get for giving Mr. Rat a name. Like all the stray cats, he probably assumes that he too is welcome to stay.

RATS!!!

January 19, 2015 by Born To Organize

Getting My Groove Back

I had my groove a few weeks ago but it seems to have gone on a walkabout. Have you seen it?

With the holidays over, it felt good putting our decorations away and tidying up. My husband feels a bit melancholy when they’re over, whereas I’m ready to move on. We strike a balance. I’m trying to find my post-holiday groove. A couple of things remain: a beautiful Christmas bunting and my holiday card selfie.

Beautiful Christmas bunting, hand-crocheted and mailed all the way from Australia Thank you, Dani!

My cards are still hanging out with my Selfie

Once the boys were back in school and Mike back to work, I embarked on a full-house overhaul. Though I organize for a living, things manage to creep in when I turn my back. I’ve decided to keep a tally this year of everything that comes through the front door unless it’s perishable (plants and flowers) or edible. Even though Mouse-the-Cat thinks that rats are edible, they didn’t make it to my list.

I emptied the book shelf in our living room, put back the essentials and took the rest of the books to a nearby Little Free Library. Our LFL is currently full and enjoying a robust ‘business’ on a daily basis. Once I cleared the shelves, I stacked my favorite gardening books, part practical, part sentimental, on one of the shelves. Now I had room for a new piece of art. I’ll write more about that in another post.

Cherished garden books

I emptied the drawer near my laundry room of random bits and bobs*, then gathered the loose buttons into a jam jar. No sense hiding beautiful buttons in a drawer, when I can enjoy them on display while folding laundry.

Throughout the week I avoided my computer and spent my energy cleaning, sorting, dusting, recycling, donating and throwing away. The process is therapeutic as well as practical. There really is value in a place for everything, and everything in its place.

Living room cleaned and sorted. Wall mural by Donna Pierre

Clutter-free counters, lemons from the garden, succulents from Laura

Lindy wants to know if I’m *ever* going to sit down

Having said that, all this sorting and cleaning felt a bit obsessive. Was I avoiding something instead? I’m still trying to sort that out. Does this happen to you?

My blog got the cold shoulder last week. It wasn’t planned. I slipped my groove and filled the time with other things. Am I in a rut? Is a rut the same as a groove?

Saturday morning I awoke with vertigo. My heart pounded in my chest and I convinced myself that it would pass. After a long, restless hour I went back to sleep, but awoke hours later too dizzy to remain sitting upright. This turn of events was not helping me get my groove back. Instead it played on an old and deep-seated fear: that I would die before raising my boys. I’m not dying of course, but who said fears are rational? I was just a girl when my dad died, and these fears flare up from time to time.

I saw a doctor today who diagnosed a viral infection of the inner ear. There’s nothing to be done for it but wait for it to gradually improve. Groovy.

What do you do when you slip a groove? How do you get it back?

*bits and bobs. I love that expression, and borrow it liberally from Pauline.

Pictured above:

Beautiful bunting and knee blanket courtesy of Teddy and Tottie

On the book shelf: The Good Life by Sarah O’Neil. Sarah blogs at Sarah the Gardener.

Thank you flowers from Boomdee

November 18, 2014 by Born To Organize

Unwanted Gifts, Ahead by a Whisker

Slinky lounging on my desk

I’m ready to pull my hair out, but I’m having a hot cup of tea instead. I’m trying to sooth my nerves. A curled up Slinky sits next to me on the desk and the leaves outside my window are finally turning orange. Breathe, Alys, breathe.

We have a standing joke that when my husband travels on long business trips, something in the house breaks. I think of myself as capable in a crisis, but computers and home appliances are generally outside of my purview. He left town late Thursday, and on Friday the dishwasher stopped working. Initially, I refused to believe it. It was one of those weeks. I played with the buttons, hoping it was just the light. Next I went outside and checked the fuse box. All appeared to be in order, but I reset it anyway and came back inside. No luck. I got down on my knees to see if the machine came unplugged. Isn’t it nice when it’s something that obvious? That’s when I saw the frayed cord. Chewed, actually. Did I mention the unwanted gift?

Mouse doing his Butterball turkey impression

Mouse (a cat) likes to catch rats (alive and well) and bring them in the house. The cat flap is now firmly closed and any open door carefully monitored. You know what they say about hindsight. Mouse brought us a gift anyway, and it’s alive and well, living in a little condo formerly known as my under-sink cabinet. There is a small hole to allow the hose and plug to the dishwasher to pass under the sink. The other side of the cabinet has a similar opening for a water pipe. For a week now, the rat has been passing between the two holes, but firmly out of reach. My oldest son made a humane rat trap based on internet research, but the rat apparently has a Ph.D. and refused to fall for it. We tried two different containers, baited with delicious peanut butter and crackers but to no avail. We put down a ‘test cracker’ to be sure he was still coming around and that cracker disappeared. Clever rodent.

Last night I found a small, humane trap online at Home Depot. I stopped by the local store this morning, but it isn’t in stock. The smaller size is only available online. The store clerk, a kind and helpful man, tried to order it for me three times using my credit card. The system kept sending a message that the account number and address didn’t match. Of course they did, but we reentered it again and again to no avail. After several more attempts using two different credit cards and finally PayPal, the annoying message persisted.

Back home I called around, still hoping to get my hands on a small, humane trap in town. The Humane Society doesn’t sell them, and the traps available at Lowe’s and Home Depot are for larger animals. Desperate to get my hands on a trap, I called the Home Depot 800 number and explained the problem. She said I would have to call my financial institution to clear the hold on my account.

I called my credit union and they told me I didn’t have a hold on my account. I logged on to see if there was a problem with the first credit card I tried using and found four separate charges to Home Depot, each for one dollar.

Pending transactions?

Don’t worry, the tea is helping and I still have most of my hair. I’m trying to breathe in and out with the rhythm of the cat. Breathe…breathe…breathe.

I made a note of Target’s 800 number and gave them a call. I pushed numbers and pound signs and cycled through the proffered choices. A recorded voice told me my balance, the date of my last payment, my recent charges…pretty much everything but what to do about those charges and how to make my card work again.

The game’s not over yet, but I’m sitting on the bench for a spell. I don’t know the current score, but I’m pretty sure the rat is ahead by more than a whisker.

November 13, 2014 by Born To Organize

A Garden Dressed in White

“The first of all single colors is white … We shall set down white for the representative of light, without which no color can be seen; yellow for the earth; green for water; blue for air; red for fire; and black for total darkness.” — Leonardo Da Vinci

When I studied color theory, it surprised me to learn that white pigment is the absence of color whereas in light, white is the combination of all color. Scientifically speaking, white isn’t a color at all, but as ‘non-colors’ go it’s loaded with symbolism and meaning.

I also learned today that white or pale flowers are more strongly scented than their darker counterparts. Who knew!

Come join me for a walk through my mid-autumn garden. The ‘color’ of the day, isn’t a color at all.

Flowering basil

The rest of the vegetable garden went to sleep in October, but this pretty plant continues to thrive.

Bacopa: This survived the summer heat and very little water

I gave this potted Bacopa very little water this summer. Now that it’s cooler and we’ve had a bit of rain, the plant revived.

Camellia along the back fence

This gorgeous, Camellia is one of my favorite splashes of white this time of year.

A fading Cosmo, one of the lasts flowers in the curb garden

This Cosmo looks tired, but it is November. She’s been pumping out blooms for some time.

Hydrangea, grateful for some rain

Again, one of the last blooms on this plant.

Sweet Alyssum and Begonias on the patio

There are a few begonias in the back of this pot, but the summer belonged to my Sweet Alyssum. As it goes to sleep, a pretty white shower drifts below.

The last of the Anemone. They’ve been flowering since August

Saying Goodbye to King Tut

My sister’s beloved kitty died yesterday. He’s been a wonderful companion to her and will be sorely missed. He had the whitest coat, emerald-green eyes and the cutest little ears. He also had a sweet personality to match. Farewell KT.

KT Eating Kitty Greens

Additional Reading:

Sensational Color: All about the color white.

Wikipedia: White

Color Matters: Basic Color Theory

November 3, 2014 by Born To Organize

October 31st: A Journal

Mike’s carvings 2014

Today’s post is a tiny departure from the norm. Since you’ve followed my Halloween preparations throughout October, I wanted to share details from our action-packed day. Here we go.

6:40

I woke up without an alarm to overcast skies. Rain in the forecast. Super excited, except that it’s Halloween. Hopefully it will rain before and after the candy gatherers come out to play.

7:30

Carpool three teens to school.

7:45

Wait for the school parking lot traffic to clear.Read a few of my favorite blogs. Leave a long comment on Pauline’s fabulous garden post (one of my favorite subjects of course) but apparently never hit the ‘post’ key. I’ll head back there today, trying to recapture in detail how much I love her garden and her post.

8:15

Tidy the kitchen and start some laundry. I live a glamorous life.

Under strict instructions from my youngest son, I remove all items from the deck. The fairy garden isn’t scary enough.

Line the walkway with pumpkins, candles and the aforementioned fairy garden.

lining the deck with pumpkins and candles

Lining the walkway/ramp with candles and home-grown pumpkins

Inside, Mike guts three pumpkins and decides what to carve. He traveled the day before, up at 4:00 am and home at 10 so he’s tired. Lindy offers moral support. Mike chooses three of his pattern favorites.

Lindy offers moral support

Carving the deadly diva

The skies open up. Puddles form. Honest to goodness rain in San Jose. Giddy with excitement, but still hoping it stops by 5:00 pm. Go out to brunch with Mike, an incredibly rare treat on his day off from work.

Rain!

The rain makes everything look off-kilter

2:00

Well, someone has to fold the laundry.

2:30

Gather the teens from school. It’s still raining so my youngest son is indecisive about hanging black plastic on the deck awning. He waits.

Tasty treat trifecta: Candy corn for Mike, kitty treats for Lindy, and left over seeds and pulp for the neighborhood squirrels

2:45

Pick up a self-bake pizza, narrowly avoiding a car accident in the process. To my tremendous surprise, the driver follows me into the pizza place and apologizes! Life is good. Note: Halloween is the biggest take-out pizza day of the year. Back home, I review college application materials with my oldest son. UC applications open November 1st. He’s ready to go.

4:00

It’s now or never. With Mike’s help, my youngest son covers the awning and sides of the deck with heavy black plastic, saved from year to year for this purpose. His friend arrives around 5:00 and they scope out hiding places, adding black lights and string. The boys ready their masks. I repeat firm instructions: they’re not to scare anyone under the age of 14.

Converting the deck into a frightful state