April is Drum Month

When I was about eight-years-old my parents surprised me with a used piano and the requisite piano lessons.  They didn’t have money to buy a piano – we were not wealthy people, we didn’t have room for the piano – it was crammed along the wall of our small dining room, and I didn’t want to play the piano – I wanted to play flute (my mom said I could take up the flute once I’d learned to play the piano).  I spent a couple years taking lessons from ancient Miss Harrison and doing everything in my power to avoid practicing, including redirecting my mom’s attention when we drove by the nearby piano store so it wouldn’t be a reminder to her to say, “Debra, have you practiced today?”

I never became at all good on the piano and I never got near a flute.  The flute part was okay, though, because as I grew up just a bit and started listening to the music of the 60s I realized what I really wanted to do, and what I might actually have some innate ability at, was to play the drums.

Flash forward a few decades and one Christmas I walked out in the garage to find a beautiful red drum set waiting for me, a gift from my husband.  It took a few more years for me to do anything with it.  At that point I enrolled in Ladies Rock Camp (there are four entries about my Rock Camp experience at my other blog, Debbie Does 50! – October 2008).  Since then (yes, since 2008) I haven’t done anything with my drums.  I walk past them daily redirecting my attention so I don’t ask myself if I’ve played today.  At one point, one of my kids put a sign just outside my office door saying, “Mom, have you played the drums today?”

Unlike the piano, I want to learn to play the drums.  From my brief experience playing at Ladies Rock Camp, I know I’ll enjoy it.  If nothing else, I think it will be a good stress reliever – I can pound out the tensions.  My drum set has been a huge, visible “Someday” – until now.  April is drum month!

Back on One Horse — Being Dragged by Another

Not just a garden gnome, but a gardening gnome, on my greenhouse windowsill.

A couple days ago I wrote about my Skip Day.  I’m happy to report I’m back up on that horse – I’ve already made up the mileage lost on my Skip Day and my reserve mileage is as high as it has been since I began the 1200-mile challenge as my January “Someday”.

However, as my January “Someday” gallops along, my March “Someday”, gardening, is being dragged through the dirt (pun intended).  I started my composter going back in February, had soil delivered to my greenhouse by the first of March, and I’ve ordered seeds.  However, there are some things about gardening I just didn’t know.  I didn’t realize I needed a propagator (a place to grow the seeds until they’re little plants).  I thought the seeds would arrive and I’d just plop them into the soil and, voila, my garden would grow.  I also thought the sun beating down into the greenhouse would be a good thing.  Plants need sun, right?  Well, apparently they need some sun, but not too much.  Now, while I wait for my seeds and my propagator, I’m trying to figure out how I can shade the windows of my greenhouse knowing it will be beastly hot in there come summer.  I also didn’t realize different seeds should be planted at different times.  I picked March for my gardening “Someday” because I thought that’s when people started gardens.  A greenhouse gardening book I just bought gives a year-round schedule for pursuing a garden in a greenhouse.  I’m reading it and figuring out how to make this first garden successful while already planning what I’ll do differently next year.

I’m disappointed the little green plants I thought would be sprouting by now are only seeds somewhere on their way to me, but I’m learning so much.  I haven’t fallen off the gardening horse, I’m just doing a little acrobatic jumping around in the saddle as I try to figure out how this all works.

Skip Day

When I began the 1200-mile challenge in January, my plan was to average 4 miles per day, 6 days per week with Sunday being a rest day.  Throughout all of January and February and through almost half of March, I didn’t take that Sunday rest day.  My reserve mileage increased and the extra Sunday miles allowed for lighter-mile days now and then.

Even though working out every day had not been part of my “someday” plans, I was beginning to think I might keep up the pace and do 366 exercise days in a row.  Then, Tuesday happened.  Tuesday was my travel day back home from spending two weeks with my daughter, son-in-law, and my newborn grandson.  I had planned to hit the trail that morning, but then there were two hours of blissful baby-holding.  I went to a late breakfast with my mother-in-law wearing my workout clothes, thinking I would head out the door as soon as I returned from breakfast, but then breakfast ran long as we chatted and caught up.  I drove home (four hours) still wearing my workout clothes.  I thought I’d head out for a walk as soon as I arrived home in the very late afternoon, but then my daughter and her boyfriend, who were spending part of their spring break at our house, were waiting and hoping for dinner out before they left the next morning.  End result?  I took a skip day!  Do I regret it?  Not a bit!  I spent time with my two-week old grandson, I enjoyed conversation with my mother-in-law, and I had a lovely time with my daughter and her boyfriend.  I would regret skipping time with family, but I can easily make up the four miles lost on my exercise skip day.

Infant Interruptus

Ah, the best-laid plans of mice and men…

My Little Guy on his birth day

March is my gardening “someday”, but my plans have been usurped by a tiny little creature weighing less than seven pounds.  March 1^st was the day to plan my garden and order seeds.  Instead, my second grandson was born early that morning so my day was spent packing, prepping the house, and driving four hours to meet him.  I brought my planning stuff with me, but so far nothing has happened.  Holding this sweet little guy seems a lot more urgent than planning a garden.  In fact, writing that last sentence took more than an hour.  I was humming along writing my thoughts when my daughter texted to ask if I would come get the baby.  I’ve been spending a couple hours with him every morning so the new mommy and daddy can sleep.  Writing and planning a garden versus holding my new grandson… not much of a competition.

My greenhouse garden area with new soil ready to go

I haven’t tossed out the gardening plan.  Some of the prep work is done.  The composter is going strong and the soil has been brought in and placed in the garden (thank you to son David for his work on that).  I’ll get my garden plan sketch done and the seeds ordered, but some things are just more important.  I’m looking forward to watching my garden grow, but that doesn’t compare to watching my grandson grow.

Welcome to my life Little Guy!