July 17, 2020, Garrett’s birthday
Since cancelling my trip to Crested Butte March 12, I have been holed up, at home. My trip to Wisconsin canceled. My flights were canceled first, then the trip itself. My friend Jackie decided to take a posting overseas with the DOD, so we will shoot for next year. With 7 states still to go, I’m running out of time.
Speaking of running, I no longer run. Without soccer, there seems to be little reason to pretend I enjoy it… Same for writing. It feels like pulling teeth. I remember the freedom with which I wrote my soccer blogs, the joy of linking my Pennsylvania bike ride with the Wright Brothers, and I’m just not feeling it now. I don’t want to work that hard or dig that deep: I am just logging words like I log miles. Don’t want to think too deeply about the craziness of COVID and BLM and our dangerous disgrace of a president. I have the time, but not the inclination.
Nonetheless, I have been keeping myself very busy. I painted all the trim on the first and second floors. I painted the south side of the barn. I painted the tin ceiling. Then I moved on to the yard. I had all the foundation plantings removed, then created a native species garden in front of the sunroom. Now, instead of boring, prickly barberry, I have bee balm and butterflies and bees and hummingbirds.
I came up with the idea of a garden honoring the Class of 2020 downtown, and am heading up that project.
I volunteered at the Farmer’s Market as it changed locations, but I have abandoned that in favor of working on trail maintenance and invasive species eradication at Raritan Headwaters every Thursday. At first, this left me so exhausted that I had to nap. I have adjusted to the heat, however, and I enjoy the challenge much more than I relished standing on the pavement for 3 straight hours at the Market. The meadows are full of native species, especially poison ivy. But it warms my heart to see butterfly weed and bayberry, to catch a whiff of mountain mint and bee balm. I also got a crew together and we attacked the knotweed at the Borough Pond. Still more work to do there.
This month, I have been biking up a storm. I am aiming for 500 miles for the month of July, a Trek challenge. That is a big stretch for me. Normally, 400 miles is a big monthly total. Unable to travel safely, with COVID spreading in the states I need to garner, I craved a challenge to keep me fit and pushing myself.
This week, I biked 7 days in a row, and am now due for a day off. I am way ahead of pace, but didn’t want to waste any good days. Rain and heat waves do happen. Update: I hit my goal on Sunday, July 26th! I have biked to our Maine house and beyond!
Lately on the road, I have been hit by strong feelings of deja vu, thinking I am in Maine. We will head there in a couple weeks. I think my brain knows it’s time. The house is in the midst of being rebuilt, and every day, there is a new surprise. Oh, now we need a roof, too, and do you want to change the dormer windows? Geez, I thought you already bought the windows! I am learning mom was right about Maine contractors…
I have been planting native trees in the front yard, swamp white oaks, redbuds, and persimmons. They are tiny babies, but an expression of hope for the future. It’s hard work, so I start my days in the cool just after dawn by planting a tree. Seems like a good way to kick off a day.
Emily has moved home and applied to grad school at NYU to study school counseling. I’m so happy that she has found a pursuit she is excited about and knows she is good at. Laura and Joe just completed a wild week of rafting in the Frank Church Wilderness of Idaho. Wish I had been there. I’m going to have to hit the road this fall, bike in tow, and just get after it. I can sleep in my tent and drive to Nebraska. I am sure of it.
We have wood thrushes in the back, can hear grey tree frogs after every rain, and there are nesting green herons at Twin Lakes. Life goes on, attenuated, concentrated, pinpointed in Bernardsville. I have reacquainted myself with the front yard, and fallen in love with it all over again, inspired by environmental readings, especially Nature’s Best Hope, by Douglas Tallamy. In a nutshell, if we all reduced the size of our lawns and replaced that dead zone with native trees, shrubs, and flowers, we could save the planet.
If we won the lottery, Kip and I agreed we would clear out the privet and barberry from the back woods and deer fence it and create our own NJ forest. Maybe someday. Meanwhile, I have my little baby trees in the front, as I start to transform one side of the field to a woodland.
It’s the last cool day for a while. Think I will wander over to the Borough pond and cut back the knotweed. If you take a look around, there is plenty to do, right in your own little neck o the woods!