I’m just a few days into my old job, and I already feel at home. That’s a joke, kids. My job is my home. But, man, am I happy to be here! While it may sound absurd to other people, I have found a deep satisfaction out of immersing myself in my own home this week. I spent Monday conquering the Mt. Washmore, the giant heap of laundry that had overtaken the basement, as well as deep cleaning my bedroom, the living room, and my office. Tuesday was reserved for the kitchen alone, because, holy crap you guys, it needed some work. It was clearly the space of a family who was too busy to actually cook, so I took the day to wash everything and reorganize all of the cabinets, drawers, fridge, and pantry in order to get back to being a family who cooks. Yesterday I cleaned the bathroom in preparation for moving on to Phase 2 of the remodel in the next week, and then today we bought everything we’d need to spend this holiday weekend cleaning up our garden. More on that in a few.
When I wasn’t getting back into my Stay-At-Home-Goddess routines, I was rehearsing. Monday was our first official rehearsal, and I have to honestly admit that I came out of it angry, frustrated, and feeling defeated. Theater is notorious for being full of difficult people to work with, but this was the first time I have ever encountered one. I would be ashamed to admit that I lashed out once in response to something that was said to me, but I don’t feel shame in that. Respect is earned with each and every new person you meet. Reputations don’t impress me. Kindness impresses me.
Last night’s rehearsal, though, was a completely different story. My first song in the show is “It’s a Fine Life” with Robin, and it was fun to begin working on that with the piano. Kyle covertly recorded our second time through the song (which a bit of can be found on my Instagram) and it was surreal to listen to. You know how your speaking voice sounds different when you hear a recording of yourself? Multiply that by a buzillionty and that is what it’s like to hear yourself sing. I’ve never, ever heard myself like that before, and I’m a little gobsmacked. I didn’t even know I sounded like that. Is it conceited to say I sing pretty well when I don’t even recognize it as myself? Not bad for the second time ever through the song!
This weekend, though…It’s gonna be a good one. Our poor yard has been so neglected this spring, and if we’re honest, it was neglected most of the fall, too. As you can guess, there’s a lot of work to be done. I pride myself in my mutant garden, full of plants I pick up the scratch and dent section of garden centers, only to nurse them back to health and have them overtake everything in sight. Yes, gardening is my jam. After deer ate my entire crop of tulips, I just ignored everything until the lilacs bloomed. One good breeze sent the scent my way, and it was all over for me. It’s time to get my hands dirty.
I’ve picked up everything I needed to make my yearly baskets for the porches, but I also found Black-eyed Susans for around the mailbox. While the lavender I planted last year was nice, I missed the height that came with climbers there, so the lavender is getting its own pot and, after a fresh coat of paint and some shiny new numbers, the mailbox will return to being covered in bright yellow flowers.
Then it’s just standard annual upkeep. In years past, I have had requests to see my flowers, so I will post a few before and afters of this wild mess on Instagram. Y’all know how much this tree-hugger loves her flowers.
Spring went by in a blur, but I’m all about making the most of the time I have left before summer comes blazing down on us. Mutant gardening, woodland critters, reading in the hammock, staring at the stars from under the pergola, eating s’mores around the fire. It’s a fine life.