nothing new under the sun

I know what you are thinking:

"Oh no! She has officially lost it…taking pictures of an old beer can and old condom tins!"

But there is a story {there is always a story}

So don't put me on the prayer chain, or un-subscribe…yet.

Mr.MS was working in the dank recesses of our basement a few nights ago.

The water heater went, blew water all over the basement floor, which then brought to our attention that the whole thing was improperly installed to begin with (by previous owners)…which led to us smelling gas, which led to us having to shut off everything, open all the windows and leave for half day at seven in the morning…which led to him having to preform a complete re-do of the gas line days prior to having the first couple go through our home to buy.

I digress….

Back to tinned trojans.

While working in the dust, cobwebs, and muck, Mr. MS caught sight of an old brown paper sack tucked up in the old wooden rafters.

His heart skipped a beat.

"O sweet heavens tell me this is wad of cash.  Maybe some silver coins?" passes through his mind instantly.

He slowly extracts, he tentatively opens the dusty bag, he holds his breath.

"Man, no cash…just some metal little boxes…what is this?….oh my gosh"!

He throws his head back and laughs and laughs.

Moments later he relates the story to me and I throw my head back and laugh and laugh.

It was a rough night that desperately needed some laughing.

The triple X can of ancient beer was tucked up in there too, covered in cobwebs.

Nothing new under the sun.

We had a good time trying on different scenarios of the who's and circumstances of this little stash.

Nothing new under the sun.

The phrase stuck with me.

Turn this truism, tilt it, observe it from a different angle in life and it still won't lose its truth.  I like that.  I like the comfort of it.  As much as I have grown to appreciate new pursuits, new stages of life, new ways to look at this world, some things always staying the same gives peace and warmth to weary souls in a weary world.  Like pulling out that baggy sweater you've held on to since college every October, or singing the same songs come Palm Sunday  and then the following Easter Sunday.

I think that is why I love Spring so much.

The Earth is waking up, there is newness everywhere, yet its the same smells, same vivid colors, same budding beauty I can count on. And that is the best of both worlds; comforting newness.

I am bone tired, weary, frazzled.

I confessed just a few moments ago:

"as pathetic as it sounds babe, I miss the boring routine of doing laundry on laundry day, grocery shopping on grocery day, and doing the bills and checkbook on payday".

All that has been cast to the wind, to be done is rushed little spurts of time these last two weeks.  All clothes have been retrieved wrinkled from laundry baskets.  Food bought in $40 quick trips.  Utilities paid weeks late.

To keep my sanity I have been taking pictures.

Here is slew of them.  My reminder of why I love the season of Spring, and these  exhausting expensive little people so very much:

the crimson red that follows after the first wave of sunny yellow and verdant green of Spring



I can always count on, after the forsythias and daffodils start to lose their brilliance, the sanguine appearance of bright tulips, purple-red shoots of peonies, and blood red leaves on the brown twigs of my awakened rose bushes.


A second year tradition.  Want to make sure we take this picture and use this home made sign every year.  So that this image will cement in the girl's mind on how this family celebrates and proclaims Easter




Weeping petals, ancient boughs:

Every Spring I can count on my miniature weeping cheery tree to burst out soft and pink as a newborns cheek beneath the huge spreading boughs of the neighbor's nearby towering Oak.  Taking this picture looking up at both is an amazing picture of soft contrast.


Blue and Pink Carpets




Every year I can count on the fuzzy soft patches of capet to appear in grass and gardens.

Spreading phlox



Every year I can count on the intense love/hate relationship of our garden hose and birds.



I love to see my girls playing in the hose

I hate when they sop their bodies in it in 50 degree weather.

They can always count on me yelling:  "don't do that! you are going to get pneumonia!"

{in the history of kid- kind has there every actually been a child who has died of pneumonia as a result of playing in the garden hose?  Probably not.  But I bet I will exclaim that exact phrase at least one more time this year}.

I also love my happy little birds that live in chattering communities up in the trees all around our property.  Every year when our feathered friends return I forget how much I miss their happy songs in the early morning.

But I hate that these guys POOP all over our deck and the furniture on the deck all year long.  Its the same every year.






Every year I can count on the mind- clearing and soul-lifting byproduct of doing hard work.  I may be among a small percentage of woman who really, really like shoveling up dirt, wrestling out buried rocks, removing sod with only a shovel and sweat (no rota tiller for me).  Something about it, the physical labor, the dirt and sweat, the stepping back and seeing what I have foraged: its really satisfying.  It clears my head and I feel connected  to the Earth as I work it and tame it.

I would have made a good farmer's wife.

I hope to be a hobby farmer's wife soon.

Recently I was telling my friend that "little ones" (under lets say eight years old) make better workers than "bigger kids".  My little ones toiled and got sweaty right along with me as we three laid down a curvy brick path from some salvaged bricks I got for free last summer.  We then filled the bare mud walkway with pea gravel. I have shared before that:I have a serious love for pea gravel .

Poor mans landscaping.

Victorian garden accent.


Here is to the comfort of consistency.

Whether it be human beings drive for sex and alcohol no matter the decade, or sprouting spring bulbs, or the joy of physical labor.

I think I am the only person in the world who could possibly find common ground between those.

Which is why I am the sort of person who keeps a blog.



4 thoughts on “nothing new under the sun

  1. Finding treasures (of any kind) are so fun. 🙂 I love the pictures and thoughts of Spring, hard work and family. It is comforting and grounding and hopeful.


  2. I love those pics of your girls with their art(too precious for flickr)I have just recently been digging up a circle of half bricks at my parents house to be sold.I made them into a herb garden 20+ years ago and want to put them in my garden now,gardening is my time to chat with He who made me.


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