Broken, Not Destroyed

The Ficus is in. Winter has officially started. Under the previous administration there would have been an accompanying array of plants to bring to shelter. But I sort of lost focus this year, and there are no potted plants to bring into the warmth and shelter of the home. I believe I will try to remedy that this spring. A number of the pots might need replacing, broken by wandering cats, but there are still plenty to fill. And I think flowers in the pots would be better than their current state of desultory emptiness.

It’s also time to remove the swallow droppings. Perhaps I will do that when I tend to the pots. Of course, picking up pots and cleaning swallow poop must necessarily be followed by a good washing of the porches. I recently bought a power washer that was on sale. It’s amazing just how much grime settles into concrete on a daily basis, brought by the wind, the animals, and humans. It’s a lot and while it could be argued it gives character to the home, it also could be argued it just makes them look dirty. I vacillate between the two camps, depending on my moods.

Of course, the follow on to cleaning the porch will be painting, primarily the dog run and the main doors. I feel bad they have fallen into a semi-state of disrepair. My wife would have painted them several times over by now and there is no way any guest would have ever seen flaking paint and primer. It was just a thing with her among other things I miss. Oh well, part of the fun of life is learning new skills, recreating yourself, much as your body does every seven to ten years. New cells, new habits, a new way of being. Literally becoming a new person. Sounds like an adventure to me.