It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time...

   I decided last winter, when the thermometer outside read 6 degrees, I wanted to redo my back yard. I thought about it all winter.  I did not want to build a gazebo or anything drastic or expensive. Nor did I want anything that needed Tommy or me to spend hours on a wobbly ladder, hanging on for dear life with one hand while cussing like a sailor at misunderstood directions. We have already done all of this when we built my art room.  I wanted a place to set our  swings, enjoy a fire pit, and cook out.  Most of all I wanted a place to enjoy rain showers, sunsets, family, friends and good music. A place to share beer, coffee and good ole Southern Ice tea.  I wanted a place to read and a place for old stories and new memories; a place filled with night sounds and lightening bugs. 

  Tommy was delighted that I would finally use all the 'pallets' that find their way to our home.  I love those things.  I can create all sorts of ideas from Pintrest; in a worse case scenario they make great kindling for our wood stove.

   The project was about to begin and would only take a minimal amount of time. We purchased a 12 x 12 foot canopy at Westlakes.  It was up in a matter of thirty minutes. Tommy bought me an red umbrella table for my birthday. I loaded up on flowers and gathered all my 'outside' furniture and began to create an outdoor room. I loved it!  We spent some good times out there.  Over the course of a few weeks, we made a wall out of pallets. That was easy but still harder than I thought it would be. Tommy's left arm is not 100% and it caused him pain...a lot of pain. I wanted him to quit but he refused. I love that man! Sometimes he drives me nuts but I can't imagine life without him. After saying all of this and meaning every word; I also have to throw in the fact that he gives the worst directions in the world!! He knows what he wants done and how to do it but I'll be damn if he can make me understand it!! The fence was created with minimal damage to feelings or egos.  AND no one was mentally pushed off a ladder--as far as I know.  Unlike the building of the sunroom when we were exhausted, hotter than hot we mentally threw each other through every window  and sliding door possible. . . well, in my mind, I did. However he threw the hammer first.

   All my hard work and bright ideas looked pretty and were very comfortable.  It lasted about a month.  The Spring rains began, stopped,  returned and finally moved in, refusing to let up. A night of high winds and my outside patio looked like this.

      I knew it was a temporary structure but I sure thought it would last longer than a month.  Once again it is cleaned up and usable without the canopy. I have plenty of shade in the late afternoon.  However I really did like the canopy. Either later this summer or next spring I am having a metal one installed. Tommy and Vicky will only pick out the color, location and add the pretty touches.  This will be a first for us.

     Here are a few shots of the rest of our yard. 

                         

                                                   

                                        
                                                                 front yard

   The wet spot to the left of the boat, which is filled with hostas and daylilies, I would like to place a small koi pond there.  Tommy doesn't want it because of snakes and Sabella would probably eat the fish.  Hmmmm still thinking this one over. He is probably right.

   

                                   Part of the back yard and pond---The pond, now that is another story.

Remembering Mama on Her Birthday...The Ladies in the Painting...

   This beautiful lady to the left is my mother, Betty Poe Humphreys. If memory serves me right, I think this photo was made after I was born. Mama would have been about 22 or 23. I called her "Betty Lou" when I could get away with teasing her.  I used it at times when she did something funny, or scared the snot out of me driving. She was the most descent, kind person I have ever known. I will miss her forever.

   We lived with her parents, Harry and Fayetta Poe, for the first eleven years of my life.  It was a wonderful childhood. I was one loved little girl.

   Mama had a million stories and I absorbed each story she told. They made a lasting impression on me. I wish I could remember  all of them now, however I don't. The ones I do, I cherish.  One of my favorite stories is about the Christmas Uncle Gene, her brother, and Mama bought Mamamae one of the most beautiful paintings Mama had ever seen. The painting was centered around another era in life.   

                                          

                                                     Mama was working at the Dime Store in Clinton. She was about 16 when she saw this painting in a local furniture store. She had to have it for Mamamae. It would be the fanciest thing Mamamae owned at that time.  Uncle Gene, who would have been about 14, worked odd jobs.  Together they saved their money to buy this painting for Mamamae's Christmas present. It was almost Christmas Eve and the painting wasn't paid for yet. Uncle Gene took a wagon and picked up scrap metal and junk to sell. He made enough that day to finish paying for the gift.  Every time Mama told me this story her eyes misted over with words left unsaid.
 
    I can remember looking at the painting and making up stories about the ladies and what they were doing. In my mind, it was always at the beginning of the Civil War. The friends were having an afternoon tea. The lady playing the piano and the young woman playing the harp were sisters in my imagination. The young woman sitting in the chair would soon be their sister in law. They would be married before he joined the Confederate army. I was usually the lady in the chair. Sometimes, but not often I would be the lady playing the piano. For some reason I never wanted to be the young woman playing the harp...and neither did Darla, Uncle Gene and Aunt Donna's daughter. If I were allowed to pick a sister Darla would be it. We would take turns being the ladies in the painting. The poor girl playing the harp was on her own in our imaginary world.
 
   That painting has moved with us sixteen times. It has been displayed in numerous states. Unfortunately, once it was stored under our bed.  At that time my home was decorated with American Indian décor and the ladies did not fit in anywhere. I always felt guilty about that...but I did love that native look.
 
   Now my home is decorated with photographs of people I love and places I have been.  Mama's three ladies are back with a new picture frame. I still have the old one. Someday they will all be reunited.
 
   It is a good day in my part of the world. Happy Birthday Mama...you were the best.