The Lady Has Arrived: The Audrey III Finale

As expected, this weekend's allergy issues left me huddling indoors afraid for my life after a brief round of patio potting and yard clean up.  Due to this near brush with death, my Audrey III finale pictures have only just now been uploaded and I'm almost feeling clear-headed enough to write in complete sentences (maybe).  If you've been following along, you'll remember the last pictures of Audrey III were from April 10th, which you can revisit here if you want to refresh your memory.  If this is all new to you, you're completely lost, and I seem like some crazy plant person then please click here to get caught up.  (This may not help explain away the crazy plant person part, but it will at least put things in chronological order).

Good!  Now that that's all straight I can go ahead and tell you that the Lady has certainly arrived!

It's been a beautiful few weeks watching her turn from being covered in nothing but green leaves to seeing almost nothing but small puffs of yellow.  Though I'm sure this is Audrey IIIs glorious final hurrah for 2011 blooms (then it's back to the man-eating plant cycle); I'm hoping that she will last through the weekend, but sadly not optimistic.  In the meantime though, there are three people on my front porch taking their own photos of our one-hit wonder to last them until next year (with far better camera equipment that my own), and she is certainly the star of the show for the next few seconds of your time if you'll have her.  

April 10

April 12

April 15

April 18

April 18

What a grand show you've put on this year Lady Banks, Bravo!

April Showers Bring May Flowers, Right?

So a lot has happened over the past few days.  On the itemized list of 'blog-friendly' items: VCU lost to Butler Saturday night, then our television finally called it quits right after the game (with a house full of people no less), and the check engine light on the car is now glaring at us demanding some long needed attention (as in, it hasn't been serviced in several years and now I'm a little nervous about something going terribly wrong just when I don't need it to).  Not that any of these things are really life-changing issues, but it just seems that when it rains, it pours.  Oh, and it has literally been pouring off and on outside, which is not helping the state of the leaky ceiling/wall in the guest room.  Top it all off with this being the busy season for me at work (meaning that it penetrates every portion of my being in an excruciatingly not so good way), and my favorite handbag breaking last night, and you may be able to see why it's kind of been a challenge to see things in an positive, inspiring way over the past few days.  In all honesty, it's been a challenge just to get a good night's sleep.  Then yesterday, I noticed that it had finally started to happen ...

 ... our Lady Banks Rose has started to bloom!!!

When we moved into our house several years ago in late August, we had no idea what the massive vine thing climbing up the column on the the front of our house was, except that it was definitely a high maintenance life form.  There was nothing but plain, green, leafy chaos - no fragrance, no real visual appeal, and an extreme tendency for rapid growth.  Even with an almost weekly grooming this thing started taking over our entire porch with it's tentacle-like vines reaching above the roof of the porch as well as over to our front door; smacking against the window panes as if it were demanding entrance.  When the sun caught it just right, it would cast shadows into the foyer of our house that looked like this swaggering beast just outside the door reaching with it's multiple arms inside to swallow us whole.  Maybe it was because of seeing this one day that it put my in mind of the plant from the 'Little Shop of Horrors', Audrey II -- you know, the one that grows insanely out-of-control and turns into a monster that starts eating people.

 Well, whether it was due to all of the grooming that this thing needed (with no particular payoff that we knew of at that point), or maybe it was the fact that it really did look like a monster plant, I decided to christen her 'The Audrey III'.

Audrey III kept on growing and becoming such a nuisance that after a few months of this, we actually discussed cutting her down.  I mean, she was really a lot of work for what appeared to be nothing, and she was covering a nice column that I'm certain could use some paint.  At the time, with fall coming we decided to put off a final decision until the spring when the regular yard work would occur, and just let it drop for a few months as 'Audrey III' seemed to go into a winter hibernation.

When the following spring arrived, we were again reminded of what a pain 'our little Audrey III' was going to be.  She  had started to exhibit new light green growth, and we weren't sure we were ready for the upkeep and hassle to follow.  Fortunately for us, between the spring rain and having to focus on other life issues, we let Audrey III run her natural course without any stress or attempt to change things on our part, and whoa what an outcome!  This seemingly pointless exercise in what appeared to be futile upkeep turned into one of the most beautiful displays of spring blooms that I have ever seen.  She only blooms once a year, and is a lot of work to keep from being unruly the rest of the time, but wow what a show she puts on for a week or two every spring.

As you can tell, even though she's a mess most of the year, she's our mess, and once a year she really makes all of the fuss totally worth it (though I cannot say the same of our Crepe Myrtle trees - totally not worth it).  We'd never dream of getting rid of her - even if we do still lose patience and trim her pretty short sometimes.  With everything else that has happened the past couple of days, her timing seems especially nice.  Her new blooms have reminded me that even though it may seem like you're in the middle of a pile of poo spring shower that seems unmanageable under the circumstances, and life seems like a pointless exercise in futility; most types of organic fertilizer precipitation are eventually followed by the wonderful blooms that make stepping in it going through it all worthwhile - even if it's just for a short time.

I can't wait to see her in full bloom in the next few days, and look forward to sharing the best part of the whole Audrey III experience with you - the pictures!

PhotoHunt 252: Education (Or, Learning to Polish a Turd)

It's PhotoHunt time again!  I'm a little late with it again this week, but better late than never (like last week), right?  This week's theme being education, I couldn't resist posting a photo of some of the most tangible education I've ever received - my first house, on good 'ole Grayland Avenue.  That's her ... right there looming above.  She actually looks strikingly pulled together in that photo compared to what I remember her looking like most of the time, so much so that I almost don't remember her looking like THIS (cue psycho shower scene music, hold your nose, make sure that all young children are out of the room, etc) ...

... or maybe I have just managed to block that part out at this point.

At any rate, you can probably see why this might have been a learning experience for a young, single female on a limited budget, who's only handyman experience was watching home improvement shows and depending on someone else to 'fix it'.  You also probably see why everyone that looked at that house with me before buying, with the exception of my Dad, told me I must have been smoking crack in order to want to buy that.  In full disclosure, there was not one wall that I remember that didn't have peeling paint (probably lead) on the cracking plaster walls; the bathrooms were not usable, had old astroturf on the floor, and smelled of urine (which was on the walls and I'm certain was on the astroturf as well); the kitchen appliance (there was only one) was playing host to an array of smelly decaying rodents and bugs; and there was a rotting dead squirrel in the 2nd floor hallway that had apparently fallen into the house through the huge gaping hole in the ceiling of the master bedroom (also smelling of pee) which, not being able to get back out the same way, had gnawed on the majority of the wooden window sashes in the house until the panes were hardly secure, in a futile effort to escape.  Why did I think this was the house for me?  Well, my Dad was quite impressed with the sturdy foundation and steel I beam that ran through the basement.  But obviously, for me it was because it was within walking distance of my social nightlife circle, and of course, because 'it showed character'  - that's right, I might as well have been smoking crack.  

Thanks to the support I received from my Dad (who obviously thought I needed this type of education) I bought myself a house and felt all proud and adult-like about the turd I had purchased.  At first, I was a bit gung-ho about the idea of polishing it up and making a nice home.  I had the help of friends and family, and I was excited.  I had outwardly taken on the appearance that I was a wall of confidence that was strong enough and determined enough to manage the task at hand of putting that house back together.  I had no idea that in order to put a house like this back together, you most times have to take it apart first.  As my friends and family went back to their own daily lives, and I was left to manage my new project, those walls of confidence came down (sometimes literally) as I ran into more and more issues that I didn't even know could have existed within a house.  Sometimes I had no idea what the actual problem was, much less how I was supposed to handle it myself.  My house turned out to be VERY good at taking itself apart in order to expose even further issues, and I then became also VERY good at promptly freaking out; so began the cycle of extremes.  

Often times, while I was desperately trying to hold it together during the challenging process of living in the house myself, I think I could relate all too well with the peril that dead hallway squirrel must have felt  trapped in something that was so much bigger than him, but still fighting to get out.  After fighting for so long though, and allowing myself to crumble right along with the house, I finally came to the realization that you can't expect to turn a turd into a diamond, but you certainly can do your best to polish it up (see MythBusters on this if you don't believe me).   Once I acknowledged the house for what she really was, and realized that the one who needed to change the most was me, things got easier.  She and I still had our share of issues and she was normally the one in charge, but at least I was in control of the way I handled the situations and what I expected the outcome to be.  Oh, and here was the final inside result ... 

... not too shabby, huh?  I think both of us turned out pretty nicely after coming back up from the bottom together.  It really did get better once I realized I had to work with what I had and not try to make it into something else.  I suppose on some level my Dad must have known that my own 'sturdy foundation' and 'steel I beam' were enough of a match to stand up to, and prosper from the type of education I got from my very first house on Grayland Avenue.  I learned a lot about hands on home repair.  I learned that watching home improvement shows does not even come close having to do the work yourself, and learning how to do it yourself.  I learned a lot about myself and how I deal with things.  I learned that sometimes in life, what your given (or in this case, what you've purchased) isn't going to change, so the only thing you can do if you don't want it to take you down with it, is to learn to polish it and embrace the change it might bring about in you.  And maybe most importantly, I learned that I will never again do anything like that without having the money to hire contractors to do it for me.