Friday, April 20, 2007

The World Outside my Door


I’ve been frantically hunched over my computer in the dark house all morning and into the afternoon, working on estate-related issues. I hadn’t eaten breakfast or done my morning exercises or showered or dressed and I was getting really hungry. Finally, I took part of my breakfast outside and sat to eat it on the ivy-covered terrace* in the backyard in my pajamas. It was after noon. I watched the cardinal flying in and out of the lilac bush with nesting material and the squirrel chasing a grackle through the spruces. The morning doves are cooing and birds flutter over my head. The little blue –s are flowering, and two more squirrels chase each other through the grass, almost running over my bare toes. One sees me and sits and its haunches staring at me. When I don’t move, it continues nosing around in the grass.

It is a perfectly clear day, the sky a pure blue, the sun warm, the air light and fresh. Spring. The Christmas roses are in flower, the hyacinths, and the brilliant yellow forsythia. Birds are cheeping and squawking and singing. There is a whole world out here that is lost to me when I am inside working. I bring my mail out to open and read in the yard. I am wondering if the blue wave length recommended for SADD is the same wavelength of blue that the sky appears to be. I wish I had time to look it up, but I don’t now.

*Yes, I know English ivy is an invasive alien species, but I didn’t plant it here, and haven’t had time to attempt to eradicate it.

I have trouble seeing the computer screen in the bright sun. There is a way to adjust the brightness of the screen, I understand, but what I don’t understand is how to do it. Nor did I bring a pen and paper to take notes while I work.

For now, the sun and the birds and squirrels and the fresh air are wonderful, but were I to try to work out here, I’d need a table and chairs and “stuff”, pens paper etc.

The mail contains bank statements, my mother’s will, trust statements, life insurance info. All of which need to be attended to ASAP before I leave again for NY, or worse yet, taken with me to deal with there when I will have so much else to do. Now I am getting too hot to work outside. And my lower back is starting to hurt because of the odd position I’m in here on the edge of the ivy terrace. I could move to the shade if I had a card table. I could set up a chair. It occurs to me that there is a card-table-like object in the garage, which I could set up and move about to follow the shade, but I need to do stuff inside, so I will say goodbye to the sweet outdoors and go back in for now.

When I took the Kuder Preference Test[MNT1] in eight grade and other times, the one thing I scored way higher on than anything else was OUTDOORS followed somewhat closely by nature and then science and writing/literary. I love the outdoors and really miss it and real wildness/nature living here in the city.

[MNT1]Now called the Kuder Occupation Interest Survey


BerryBird said...

We have English ivy on our patio, too, also not planted by us. The lawn is invading the ivy, though, and not vice versa. As far as spreading, it is the berries that are the real problem for those of us living in urban areas, anyway. I have actually never seen either fruit or flowers, though, and I spent a lot of time weeding out there last summer. I am not sure how invasive it is in this particular region. I have seen photos of some horrific infestations elsewhere, though, so it may be just a matter of time.

Mary Stebbins Taitt said...

I saw a map somewhere on some invasive species website that showed where it was a problem and how much of a problem, like with shading for degrees of danger or something--but I forget where. And it seems as if it was more of an issue in the midwest IF I am remembering right but I may not be?

Nadine said...

I love English ivy. I would plant it in my yard regardless of its alienness. There is some on the edge of the woods by my office building, which makes me wonder what was on the land before it was turned into its current incarnation.

Mary Stebbins Taitt said...

dig some up and move it; it transplants pretty easily or I could bring you some cuttings from here.