Finding beauty in a challenging situation can be, well, challenging!

We’re in the final months of our waiting game, chomping at the bit, laying low, and trying to make the most of our time left.  I get up early (well, early for me) and try to find new angles in the tired familiar views.  It’s more challenging when limited to less-than-optimal resources (in this metaphor a crappy phone cam), but that’s where ingenuity and creativity come in, reframing the mundane in a new light.  I’ve had to reconsider many hackneyed assumptions and attitudes, while in Ohio.

Mulberry in morning light, and the “Nasty” (nasturtium) jungle:

Herbs in silhouette, and bleeding hearts out of focus:

Here is my new resolution for TN–I will try to refrain from jumping to judgmental conclusions and criticisms of my environment, and just give it a chance.  This will probably be my last stand, so-to-speak, and it deserves a clean slate.  I will try to restrict my protests to actual issues that need to be addressed in an appropriate forum.  This is an opportunity to start over and get it right.  I’m thankful for another chance, this late in life.  Not many people are this privileged.

I’m L42, and I approve this message.

Easter is one of those sad and lonely holidays for E, whose whole family abandoned her and withheld her grandchildren from her.  She misses them especially on days like this.  The evil tenants are out there as I write, putting plastic eggs out in the yard for their kids.  I hope they don’t use them for skeet shooting.

So I tried to do a little something to cheer her up.  I got up early and made her some naturally-colored eggs.  I used turmeric, blue curaçao, beet juice, and grenadine, in various combinations.  Voilà!  I considered making a “healthy” drink out of it, but thought better of it.  Add bunnies and décor, and there you have it.  Ostara, as I prefer to think of it.

Meanwhile, E is cooking up something traditional from long ago in the kitchen.  It smells good.  The Skullies are ready to party.  Prost!

On our hike today, we observed the fish-and-frog pond, very impressive trees, some with dramatic shag bark, “my” famous cave in the cliffs, of course the falls, and most importantly, Horny I mean Thorny Badlands.  That sign cracks me up, for some reason.  Note the way E is casually hanging on the sign.

Today we hiked through Charleston Falls.  The pond was alive with fish and frog life.  The wildflowers were going crazy en masse everywhere.  There were fields of trout lilies, Virginia bluebells, mayapples, and many other spring wildflowers, some growing right out of the cliffs.  The waterfall was  lively.

The most exciting find was one little morel.  These have been very elusive in recent years, and their locations are kept a closely guarded secret, because they’re protected.  If I reveal its exact whereabouts, they’ll have to kill me!

This will be in two parts.  First, the wildflowers.

Some days the challenges seem to come in droves.

Between the ignorant peasant girl below constantly harassing E for no reason whenever she goes downstairs, E’s computer getting hacked so she can’t use it, our medical charges continually increasing so we have to put off appointments and prescriptions (or go without), and just the generally oppressive atmosphere here, it can be like navigating an obstacle course just getting through the day.

But E is pretty philosophical (or fatalistic) about reality, having weathered so much worse.  When you can’t control it, you try to stay calm and just do your best with what you can manage.  I could stand to learn that lesson.  My anxiety level would be through the roof.  You never know what calamity will hit next, so you just take them one at a time, and let karma take care of the hostiles.

But not to be a total buzzkill, here is my menu for erev–homemade from-scratch matzah balls and chicken soup, sweet potato tzimmes with pineapple and lots of other fruits and spices, brussels sprouts and cauliflower, and just to be different, baked flounder and tilapia (with matzah meal crust, of course).

In between all the setbacks, and the nightmares brought on by anxiety, we sit and plot out our coming move, and dream of simple things like being able to live and let live, and maybe being of service to someone.

Just a short check-in.  The sky early this morning:

Some flowery views:

The Skullies and animals say erev cheers!

Some Pesach staples—potato kugel, matzah meal pancakes (in this case savory Indian-style), the obligatory (for obvious reasons) dried fruit assortment, the miraculously omnipresent “maturing” charoset, and flowers from the garden.

Here’s a paradox—though this is the poorest (financially) I’ve ever been, the flip side is that I now have the time to observe Pesach customs, albeit in their simplest, most humble form.  It used to be so hectic, expensive, and confined to what little time and opportunity I was afforded.  Now, I have enforced free time, and a bonus captive audience who appreciates every little unfamiliar thing.  What better incentive to get inventive with my own personal reinterpretations and adaptations.  I actually feel fortunate that I’ve been constrained by circumstances to keep it basic and essential, eliminating the “schmaltz”-factor.  Even with all the setbacks, past and future, we’re still much more fortunate than many people in the world.

I finally mowed the whole lawn (ours and the neighbor’s), raked and cleaned up all the beds, sowed a few lettuces and herbs in one of the raised beds, and now feel a little better.  The creepy tenants are always lurking, but I ignore them as much as possible.  It’s like a minefield with them.  I just want to leave our place better than I found it, and then they can feel free to trash it the rest of the way when we’re gone.

Here is the backyard after I mowed:

This is the cleaned up “memorial bird sanctuary”, and apple blossoms:

There are pretty wildflowers everywhere:

Here we have last year’s horseradish coming up, soon to be joined by this year’s root, and something not native coming back up in the neighbor’s yard:

I’m living for the day when we first wake up in our own home, and I can run out in our own garden.  I will never take that for granted again.  I’m always mindful that much of the world, including many here in the US, will never have that privilege.

I can’t think of a thing to say, but I resolved to write something every day, so…

SOMETHING.

There you have it.

I braved the tenants, who were standing there watching and smoking the whole time, trying (and failing) to draw me out, as I finally straightened up the front garden bed.  They appear to have no memory of all the times they tried to intimidate and harass E, and all the other chaos, and blame it on one of their other squatters.  It’s as if they have no connection to reality or stability.  But we just mind our own business and bide our time.  Once we’re gone, they can proceed to trash the whole building and yard.

Anyway, while I was puttering around the garden I found this toad!  For some reason, toads have almost disappeared from this area, as have other critters.  So I was happy to see this guy.

There were lots of things blooming, including masses of violets, apple blossoms, etc:

Well, back to Pesach…not much else to do, as I did most of the slaving yesterday.