Wash-Out

So remember those gardens we spent so much time digging and planting? Yeah, well there was a great, mighty rain storm this weekend (two of them, in fact) which essentially washed away all of our hard work. Poopie. Luckily, all the plants that Miss Flowers gave us are still in tact and in the ground, which means they're probably root-bound by now--very good news. Unfortunately, we now fact the task of re-filling in those parts of the garden that disappeared overnight, and sweeping away all that dirt that fell along S.'s lovely brick-edge she so lovingly and laboriously placed. I go back to school tomorrow, which means way less time for yardwork (oh darn), but that probably won't get me out of mowing the lawn tonight. The rain also meant that our grass actually grew, which means cutting it. Ugh.

On a different note, we are indeed being stocked by the opponents of the Biomass Plant. They left a few articles and a DVD for our viewing pleasure in our side door over the weekend. Creepster.

Avoiding the Mail Ladies

My baby S. was on the Springfield Channel 22 News on Wednesday night. No, she didn't committ a crime, or do anything wrong (really). We happened to be out in the yard starting to dig up yet another garden when Handsome News Man emerged from the 22 News van to ask us what we thought about the Russell Biomass Plant, which is supposed to be built at the end of our street. There is a lot (I mean a lot) of opposition to the construction of this plant, as well as some supporters whose views have kind of been lost in all the protest over the problems it would cause the town. Handsome News Man was looking for someone who hadn't made up their mind yet, and as newcomers to the neighborhood, we were the ones. (I happen to think it didn't hurt that we were 2 kind of cute girls who just moved here from Manhattan, where Handsome News Man was from!)

S. did a great job (after going inside to change out of her gardening clothes into something nicer) and articulately explained her position. And it was all truthful--we really don't know enough of the project and don't want to be swept up in the hype of it all before getting all of the facts. Check out the news story here, and for a more comprehensive view of the whole plan, the Boston Globe wrote a fantastic article on it a couple of weeks ago in the Sunday paper.

At any rate, S. felt like she had to duck when she went into the post office yesterday, thinking everyone would be glaring at her for agreeing to speak on camera. In a small town, these are the things you have to think about!

Falling Summer

I'm going back to my signature color, in case S. is inspired to write something over here, too. On the home front, we are trying to get our guest room put together for some guests (our first!) this weekend. Very exciting. I'm noticing, as I drive around (and around and around and around) that trees are beginning to show signs of fall--little peeps of yellow, red, and orange are starting to show through the otherwise big bush of green. This simultaneously depresses and excites me. Depressing because it means summer is over and I have to go back to work. Exciting because I get to go back to work (at my new school) and fall is my absolute favorite season.

I've enjoyed the past 5 falls in NYC, and they are fabulous--mild weather, romantic(ish) walks in Central Park crunching through the leaves-it's awesome. But here in New England, it's really more of a spiritual experience. The leaves perform for us--spectacular bursts of color everywhere--and when they fall and start to slowly decompose, they make the best earthy smell. People start to light their wood stoves, and the neighborhood starts to smell deep, smoky, and rich--and cozy.

Of course, in about 2 months, you will no doubt hear me bitching about having to rake and then dispose of all those beautiful leaves. But in the meantime, I'm feeling nostalgic for the falls of my childhood when I could jump in a pile of leaves and roll around in their damp, musty goodness.

God calling!

I was running from one end of the house to the other Saturday morning, still in my pajamas and drinking coffee, when there was a knock on the door. I was sure it was my father or mother-in-law (they live 5 minutes up the road), or maybe my neighbor. I didn't really mind if they saw me in my pajamas with no bra on and drinking coffee, so I open the door and I see two young men in suits holding bibles and Watchtower pamphlets. I knew what those were--I lived frightfully close to the Watchtower headquarters in Brooklyn. They were messengers of God--the Jehovah's Witnesses. Our conversation that morning went a little something like this:

Suits: Good morning! We live up the street and you've really done a nice job fixing up the place!
Me: Yes, we worked hard.
Suits: I see you're having your morning coffee.
Me: Yes, I am.
Suits: Well, I was wondering if I could read something to you. (starts to open bible)
Me: Don't bother-I'm not Christian.
Suits: Oh. Are you another religion?
Me: No.
Suits: Oh. Are you an atheist, or...?
Me: No, not really.
Suits: Oh great! So you're not really sure if there's a God or how he works? (grin starts to spread on face--hope of being saved after all)
Me: Yeah, I guess. But I'm gay. So I have a hard time finding my place in most religions.
Suits: (Faces dropped) Oh.
Me: Thanks for stopping by and have a nice weekend!
Suits: Thank you, have a nice day. (Walking away befuddled)

I've never had anyone come to my door before wanting to help save me, and usually I feel bad cutting people off--I'm the type of person who will let sales people talk to me forever about their product, even if I don't intend to buy, because I just feel bad about it. But I'll be damned if I'm going to be a part of someone's mission to make me join a church I don't belong to, or believe in, in my own house. If I want to make my little house a den of sin, so be it.

I could tell by their faces they were surprised to hear about the gay part. But she looks so normal-and she lives right here in town! Oh well-at least I gave them something to talk about for the rest of the day! --cd

Free flowers from Miss Flowers

I'm trying different colors to try to match all the lovely flowers that will one day grow in the garden we spontaneously created on Friday. Well, not really spontaneous--we had to build up the side of the house along the foundation due to some sloping issues, plus we have no gutters, which means the rain pours down and potentially pours into our basement. Not good. So, now it's pretty, and S. is spending a good deal of time edging it with bricks we got from the old chimney we disassembled from inside the house--so that I don't mow the flowers down with the mower (did I mention before I have lawn mowers issues? They've very deep-seated).

We met a wonderful neighbor, Miss Flowers the Florist, who not only gave us a tour of her beautiful garden, but actually gave us 25 pots of perennials from her own garden. Can you believe it? She is our new hero. Miss Flowers can come visit us any time she likes! I think I'm going to have to do something nice back now, like make cookies or something. I don't think I should give her flowers, seeing as she is a freaking florist. I am no good at neighbor stuff. Growing up, I didn't really talk to my neighbors much, and my mother wasn't exactly the type to run next door and introduce herself to someone new in the neighborhood, so I don't know the etiquette yet. But I'm getting it. S. is excellent at it, and also good at gardening, so I think S. and Miss Flowers should become very good friends, both for the free garden advice and because she and her family are relatively normal compared to others on our street. Oh yes, the others on our street. That's a whole other post...
--cd

We're really normal, we swear!

I found myself wanting to talk a lot about the harrowing task of being a new home owners after living in NYC for the past 5 years in small apartments, but it wasn't really an appropriate subject to discuss on our pregnancy blog. So, I decided to start a new space where I can blow off some steam about my new neighborhood and way of life, but also to revel in this big change my partner, S., and I (C.) decided to make in our lives.

So, how is life in the country compared to NYC? Well, challenging. First off, one thing I just did not anticipate is having to mow the lawn every single week. Ummm--why don't they make grass that doesn't grow? (I'm sure they do somewhere) I guess now I know why my father was out in the yard doing work literally every single night until twilight. And I also sort of understand how people can yet their yard go so it looks like crap. It's a lot of hard work! And if you're not particularly good at it, it can be trying. For instance, I can't start the lawnmower, so I look at mowing the lawn with great dread and apprehension. I'm sure if I had, you know, a Cub Cadet riding mower I would be just happy with doing the work. But my pride is too great to let the yard go, so I sweat it out and then actually feel pretty proud of myself when I'm done.

The other funny thing about living here is that most people assume we are sisters. Like our good, kind neighbors on either side of us. They're really, really nice to us, don't get me wrong. But I wonder if they're beginning to think differently, seeing as I do not call S.'s parents "mom" and "dad." So, even though we're 2 girls living together, which people really can't wrap around their heads, we're really just the girls next door--trying to patch a life together out of what little home ownership experience we have! --cd