Spring Cleaning – Inside and Out

I try not to let the first moments of a day effect the rest of that day. I'm a morning person. I like mornings, so setting a positive tone for the day based on the first hour or two is usually not a problem. I'm always up before everyone else in the house and have an hour or two all to myself. I go through my morning routine – shower, dress, take my morning pills, do my daily word games and number puzzles – Words with Friends, Word Chums, Sudoku, Number Sums, and Quiz Planet. I do my online Japanese lesson. I like to keep my brain engaged. At some point I check the weather forecast and the news. By then it's getting light outside and I go out to see what the world is like. I go down to the barn to do the morning chores, check my traps, and let the chickens out. If the weather is nice, I take a walk, usually just around the property, sometimes longer up the road along the beaver pond. After Stacey is up, we read the scriptures together and pray. That's the way the day begins, and it's a good way. But some mornings don't happen like that.

Last Monday was not so good. Everything went smoothly until I went outside. I'd heard it rain during the night, but I didn't know that the temperature had dropped low enough for it to turn to ice. When I went out to go down to the barn, I almost fell going down the front porch stairs which where coated in a thin layer of ice. I scattered some salt on them and went on my way. The lawn was crunchy with ice-coated grass. My traps were sprung and empty, triggered by a coating of ice. I came back to the house and spent some time scraping ice off the windshield of the car Miriam would be taking to school in a few minutes. Ice is miserable stuff and it made me grouchy. Not a happy way to start the day or the week.

After everyone was gone to work and I was home alone, I set about trying to break my grumpy slump. I had tasks to keep me busy, but it wasn't happy work. I started a load of laundry and then moved on to cleaning the downstairs bathroom. I took a break after that and went out to the woodshed to check my seed trays. Some of them have sprouted and that made me happy. I had a dozen things that needed to be done outdoors, but it was cold, gray, and dismal, spitting rain/snow, and I didn't want to risk getting pneumonia attempting them.

Seed trays, Monday morning.

Music. I needed some great music. That would help. I started off with two great Monday songs – Karen Carpenter singing "Rainy Days and Mondays" and the Mamas and the Papas singing "Monday, Monday." Those songs aroused my curiosity, so I went online to see if I could find some other Monday songs. I was surprised how many there were. Monday seems to be a popular day to sing about – or unpopular. A lot of the songs were about how bad Mondays are. Here are some of the songs I found.

"Blue Monday" by Fats Domino
"Manic Monday" by The Bangles
"I Don't Like Mondays" by The Boomtown Rats
"Come Monday" by Jimmy Buffett
"Monday Morning" by Fleetwood Mac
"Monday Morning" by Pulp
"New Moon On Monday" by Duran Duran
"Monday Morning Church" by Alan Jackson
"Monday" by Wilco
"Monday" by Imagine Dragons
"Monday" by Matt Corby
"Monday Morning" by Christina Aguilera
"Monday Morning" by Death Cab For Cutie
"Monday Morning" by Melanie Fiona

"Stormy Monday" by The Allman Brothers

There were a lot of songs called either Monday or Monday Morning, but none of them were the same song. I didn't know most of these, but I listened to them all. I didn't care for a lot of them, but I gave them a shot. It was a fun distraction, but when it was done, I went back to the first song I'd listened to, Karen Carpenter singing "Rainy Days and Mondays" and then put on a long queue of The Carpenters to ease me through the rest of the morning. 

I was twelve when The Carpenters arrived on the music scene in 1970 with their first hit "Close To You." From then on, the rest of my teenage years were filled with one great Carpenters songs after another. I have always loved Karen Carpenter's voice. Back then I couldn't have told you why except that I recognized something lovely in it. Now, after gaining a more expansive understanding of music and the human voice, I know why – her voice is perfect. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. I've read articles and watched videos by people analyzing her voice. She had a pure contralto voice. Her delivery was clear and strong. She sang in a time before auto-tuning, so the voice you hear is real and unadulterated, unlike many singers now. The Carpenters recorded ten albums in the fourteen years they were performing. In that time they had three number one hits, twelve top ten hits, and twenty top forty hits. I was heartbroken when Karen died in 1983. I heard the news on the radio in the car. They announced her death and then played, "We've Only Just Begun." It made me cry. I was happy to spend my Monday morning with her.

For some reason, Karen inspired me to keep on cleaning. Or maybe it was just trapped-in-the-house boredom. I decided that, since it was officially spring, I should start Spring Cleaning. The downstairs bathroom was done. I tackled the dining room next. I took everything out of the room – table, chairs, linen cupboard. I scrubbed down the walls and washed the windows and then finished by steam cleaning the floor. Then I put everything back. By then my Carpenters queue had finished and it was noon, so I took a rest and ate some lunch.

The gutted dining room, ready for cleaning.

After lunch, I put on a queue of The Eagles and resumed my cleaning spree with the living room. It didn't need much work. I dusted, washed the windows, vacuumed the rug, steamed the floor. The Eagles were a good, energetic accompaniment to that. I managed to keep busy all day. I only went outdoors three times, for the morning chores, the afternoon chores, and to get the mail, so I didn't mind the yuck outside so much. When I went down to close the barn and set my traps at bedtime, I was surprised to see that it was snowing and it had been for a while because there was already almost an inch on the ground. I was disgusted.

Tuesday morning was worse. There was snow on the ground again. It was 17°. I groaned as I set off into another wintry day. It turns out, there are a lot of songs about Tuesday, but I was done with that line of entertainment. I decided to clean the bedroom closet and I needed something stronger. I chose Stravinsky. I worked my way through the ballet suites. First the brighter ones –Petrouchka, Pulcinella, and The Firebird. And then Le Sacre du printemps – The Right of Spring. It's drama, rhythm, and violence was especially appealing to me. I turned the volume way up on that one. Then I moved through some other favorites – Les cinq doigts: 8 mélodies très faciles sur 5 notes (The Five Fingers: 8 very easy melodies on 5 notes. I actually tried to learn these at one point years ago, but they weren't easy enough for me), the Symphony of Psalms, the Concerto for Two Pianos, and the Violin Concerto in D. Stravinsky's odd rhythms and dissonance seemed a perfect match for my mood as I cleaned the closet.

Tuesday morning.

Despite the snow and the cold, the sky was clear and the sunshine was bright. By the time I was done with the closet, the snow was mostly gone and it had warmed to 42°, so I went outdoors to work. I cut down all the old stems of the phlox in the long border. There are new shoots coming up and the old stems were in the way. Then I raked them out of the bed. The long border is full of weeds, but the ground was too soggy. I have to kneel to pull them and I didn't want wet knees. The sun felt good as I worked, but the air was chilly. I took a short break and sat in the greenhouse for a few minutes to enjoy its heat. 

Working in the long border.

Later that afternoon, Tosh came over with his chainsaw and took down an apple tree for me. This tree was one of the original trees I planted when I first began my orchard. It was a Cox's Orange Pippen, reputed to be the most delicious apple in the world. But I wouldn't know that because after twenty-six years of nurturing it, it never gave me even one apple I could eat. It is a notoriously fussy variety. Its fruit splits early during development if conditions are not perfect – and conditions here are never perfect apparently. I warned the tree last year that, if it didn't bear any edible fruit that fall, I was going to cut it down. It didn't, so I did. Or Tosh did. I will use the bigger pieces of it as firewood. And I will plant another tree in its place.

Tosh removing the apple tree.

Sunrise on Wednesday was pretty, but it was a cold, frosty morning. I did the morning chores and then came back inside to wait until it had warmed up a bit before getting to work. When I finally went out, I worked cutting up the felled apple tree. I cut away the smaller branches and added them to the dead hedge. The larger pieces I will stack to cure to be used as firewood next fall and winter.

Sunrise on Wednesday.

All that's left of the apple tree.

My onion and shallot order arrived that afternoon. I opened the bundles and set them on the back porch. The bed they will be planted in is not ready, but the onions are dormant and will be fine until we are prepared. I'm hoping we can plant them on Monday or Tuesday.

The onion and shallot order.

We worked on another project later that afternoon. The place where Stacey works has hundreds of pine trees on the property, mostly blue spruce, that have died. The workers there have been cutting them down and grinding up the stumps. That results in piles of wood chips. So after work on Wednesday, Stacey and Hannah used Tosh's truck and shoveled up a load of those pine chips. They brought them home and we spread them as mulch on our blueberry bushes. 

Newly mulched blueberry bushes.

Thursday morning, I knew there was weather coming later in the day and it would be the last warmish day in the week, so I wanted  to do  as much as I could before it arrived. After the morning chores, I took a walk along the beaver pond to enjoy the sunrise. There were lots of geese on the pond.

Sunrise on Thursday.

When the sun was fully up and the day was warming, I went out to work in the long border. The long border is divided into sections delineated by a row of rocks. I divided it like that because it seems easier to tackle tending it a section or two at a time, rather than confronting the whole thing. First, I had some major transplanting to do. I have clumps of phlox and ornamental grass that spread into areas where I didn't want them. I removed them. Then I selected a section and got to work weeding. I'm always amazed at how many weeds there are in the spring that weren't there in the fall. They grew during the winter under the snow. Using my favorite weeding tool, a long screwdriver, I pried them out of the earth and sent them to the compost pile. 

Two sections of the long border cleaned up.

While I was working I got to watch the first skirmish in the Battle for the Nesting Boxes. The bluebirds are looking for nesting sites now and I have two boxes, one in the flower garden and one in the orchard, ideally situated for them. Every year the bluebirds check them out and begin to move in. But the house sparrows also want those boxes. And so the fight commences. The house sparrows, a non-native invasive species, are very persistent and aggressive. The bluebirds, a beautiful native species, are not very aggressive. I try to help the bluebirds. If I see the house sparrows have moved in, I rip their nests out. Some years, after a prolonged struggle, the bluebirds succeed and make a nest and raise their young. If they give up and the house sparrows win, I take out their nests and plug the holes on the boxes to keep them out. It may seem cruel, but I have no sympathy for the house sparrows. They are numerous and obnoxious and not welcome to nest in my yard.

I took a break for lunch and when I went back out, I paused in my flowerbed cleanup to plant a bed of shallots. That was a satisfying job. I love planting things. I resumed my cleanup just as the weather started to change. The forecast said rain, and possibly a thunderstorm would arrive around 2:00 and this time they got it right. The sky turned gray right on schedule. The wind changed direction and blew in cooler. I hurried to finish and put my tools away before it started. When I came up from doing the afternoon chores at the barn, I felt the first raindrops. After sprinkling for a few hours, the big rain came at sunset. It poured for several hours. I was glad I got done what I did before it came.

The bed of shallots.

Spending a day working in the garden in such fine spring weather was wonderful, but I felt it afterward. My muscles are winter weak. All that kneeling, digging, pulling, raking, bending, and lifting had me feeling old and worn out by the end of the day. As the season moves on, I will get back into garden shape again, but even then, I'm not as spry as I used to be.

Friday was mostly cold and gray. The rain had turned to snow during the night and there was a light crust on the ground. I didn't mind too much. I was sore and needed the day to rest from Thursday's exertions. I did the necessary chores and spent the rest of the day taking it easy. I spent the morning listening to some great music. Every year on Good Friday I listen to Bach's St. Matthew Passion. I'm looking forward to doing that this Friday, but Bach wrote another passion, the St. John Passion, that I don't listen to every year. He wrote it in 1724, three years before his monumental St. Matthew Passion. It is based on the Gospel of John's account of the arrest, trial, crucifixion, and burial of Christ. It isn't performed as often as the St. Matthew Passion. It is a smaller work, but magnificent in the way all of Bach's music is. With Holy Week about to begin, I thought I'd set the tone by listening to it on Friday.

After that, I spent most of the rest of the day reading. I was three quarters of the way through book number ten of the Discworld series, Moving Pictures, a satire on Hollywood and the world of cinematography. I'm enjoying these books so much. Terry Pratchett's humor and mastery of satire are amazing. I almost finished that and am excited to move on to the next book, Reaper Man, which focuses on one of my favorite Discworld characters, "Death." If you don't know Discworld, that might seem strange, maybe morbid or occult, but it isn't at all. He is a complicated character, sympathetic to the human condition, humorous, and fond of cats. I will enjoy this book.

That crusty snow mostly melted by noon, but it was the death knell for the crocuses. They'd withstood onslaught after onslaught of winter weather and finally gave up. They were beautiful while they lasted. There are other flowers emerging, or trying to anyway – tulips, daffodils, squill, and hyacinths. They aren't far enough along to be damaged by the snow and frost, but if this winter weather doesn't end soon, they will be. This week the weather looks to be mild, no snow or frost in the forecast. But that doesn't mean there won't be more later. Mild weather tricks things into blooming and then slams them with a freeze. It's happened so many times.

The crocuses at their peak.

Sarah came by at noon and we did some garden planning. She has some great ideas for converting some of the raised beds into mini hoop houses. We talked about what we need to plant and where. I love garden planning. Now if the weather would just cooperate, I need to put plans into action.

When I went down to do the afternoon chores and collect the eggs, I found our first guinea egg. She laid it right in the middle of the coop floor. I'm sorry she's a lone guinea in a flock of chickens. Her egg is infertile, of course. It's smaller than a chicken egg, but tastes the same, so I'm told. We'll see.

Friday's egg collection: 18 chicken, 1 guinea.

I wanted to do so much yesterday. It was sunny and looked like a perfect day for working outdoors, but looks were deceiving, it was cold. We only hit 32°, too cold for me to attempt anything in the garden. It was aggravating to see all that sunshine and not be able to go out and enjoy it. Instead, I spent an hour in the woodshed planting two more seed trays, one with cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower seeds, and the other with hollyhock and four o'clock seeds. That felt good. I spent some time later in the day in the kitchen making pickled eggs and red beets. They are a traditional part of our Easter feast. I like them to pickle for at least a week so the beet juice can penetrate all the way to the yolk. I love the smell of the beet juice, vinegar, cinnamon, and cloves. It's very nostalgic. They are a part of my Pennsylvania Dutch heritage, a staple at the family gatherings of my childhood. Some members of my family only like the eggs and not the beets and, sadly, some don't like either. I love them both. Eaten with a dash of salt and pepper, they are delicious.

 

This is how they will look at Easter, red to the yolk.

Miriam and Hannah spent almost every evening last week at the Foster's making candy for Easter. They made scotch mallows, peanut butter eggs, coconut eggs, and chocolate covered marshmallows. And they made batches of each of them that I can eat! Yesterday Hannah made homemade jelly beans.

Yesterday afternoon we went next door to help the Fosters work on their house. That house is very old, built during the Civil War. For a time, my great-grandparents, Theodorus and Anna May Howe, lived there and my great aunts Esther and Eleanor spent most of their childhood there. Sarah and Tosh have been renovating it. Yesterday they worked on redoing the walls in the rooms upstairs. The crew worked at scraping off old wall paper and mudding the lath and plaster walls. They are making progress on the house, but there's still a lot of work to do. They are hoping they can move in at the beginning of May.

The work crew: Sarah, Hannah, Tosh, Stacey, Miriam.

Mudding walls.

Because next weekend is General Conference, we had our Easter Service today, on Palm Sunday. It was a good meeting. We sang my favorite Easter hymns – Christ the Lord Is Risen Today and He Is Risen! As a special musical number my family sang That Easter Morn. The talks were good. Church was only an hour long, so we are home earlier than usual. It's a sunny day and almost warm outside. I took a walk around the garden when we got home from church, noting the things I want to do this week. Then I looked at the forecast for the week and I see that tomorrow is the only day it's not supposed to rain. So it looks like tomorrow is going to be a very busy day. I can hardly wait.