the outcome

They came. They saw. They conquered. My horrible overgrown yard, that is. Yesterday was my turn for 2013 and for more than the prescribed amount of time, my friends tangled with what can best be described as the evil thorny cousin of tumbleweed. They also pulled ivy. They cut down trees. They planted. Kara and Don bequeathed me a gazillion plants from their Cheverly house yard, not to mention the patio furniture and chimera that they no longer need now that they are urbanites living in Baltimore.

And the result? I have a yard. I have a place to sit and enjoy my quiet slice of peace outside the chaos of the city. I am already thinking of other things I want to plant, and I want to throw dinner parties out here before it gets too hot and buggy to enjoy.

Once again I find myself overcome with emotion over the dedication that a group of friends can display over projects that get shoved to the bottom of our own to do lists at home. I’m especially touched that my friend Rob, who said he couldn’t stay long because he had some deadlines he was stressed about, decided to stay well into the evening because he was “having fun.” And that’s the thing. It’s fun to help. It’s much more fun to be at another family’s Warriors day than it is to run your own. Because there is nothing like transforming a room, a yard, or whatever the object of change is and seeing the look on the face of the owner of said space at the end.

But with that said, in spite of the sore muscles, sunburn, and piles of debris in my front yard that need to be hauled away, this was the best Warriors ever. And I cannot thank my friends enough.

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Warriors 2.0

I have written before about the “book club for home improvement” my friends started and graciously invited me to join in 2012. Ten families. Ten months. We each get one turn to have four hours (or more) of help of raising the barn of our choosing.

I had my first turn in August 2012. Today is my 2013 turn.

And what a lovely day it is. I was nervous because the weather has been more erratic than my sex life (hot, cold, hot, cold) but that sassy minx Mother Nature appears to have delivered a beaut for us today, a day when I plan to tackle that beast of a yard my house rests upon.

I can’t predict exactly what we will accomplish but there will be a chainsaw involved.

Regardless of what gets checked off the list, I am looking forward to a day with my friends, and if last year’s Warriors day serves as any guide, I will cry tears of joy when it’s all over.

There will be after photos. Of the work, not the tears.

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she’s alive…

And she thanks you for your concern.

All kidding aside, it’s been rather humbling to get so many “why haven’t you written?” or “where are you?” or even “are you okay?” questions over the last several weeks. It turns out that when I don’t write, you assume I am: sick, overworked, overworking out, in love, in a style rut, too depressed, too happy and/or in Lake Como with George Clooney.

But the truth of the matter is, I just haven’t had the inclination to share. After a relatively short period of time (in blogger years) of presenting the details of my life in a very public way, I felt like keeping my thoughts more private. (“Private: [prahy-vit], adjective, personal and not publicly expressed; not usually applicable to blogging activity.”) Of course, I’ve started posts in my head, usually as I’m about to fall asleep. They never felt share-worthy in the morning . I’ve contemplated the copycat method, building off interesting posts written by the three bloggers  (Wardrobe OxygenDC Celine and Lemmonex) I take time to read.  But what I came up with always seemed forced and weak, not complementary to the original.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know what to write. I just didn’t want to write it. I kept my thoughts confined to my head and heart and shared with close friends in a more conventional format. That is, over dinners, wine, the phone and the occasional g-chat.

However, now a new season is upon us, and I’m going to try this writing thing again. Much like it’s hard to get back into an exercise routine after a break from the gym, I already feel this is going to be a difficult readjustment. My fingers aren’t quite as nimble on the keyboard. My brain is searching for the right words to make you want to check back to see if I’ve posted. But I want to maintain a balance between what’s going to be mine and what’s going to be yours.

In case you aren’t convinced as to why I’ve maintained radio silence, let me reassure you: I’m not sick (except a pesky head cold). I work decent hours (was oddly nostalgic for an all-nighter Senate vote-a-rama session recently). I haven’t been to Biker Barre in a week. I haven’t been on a date in awhile. I haven’t bought any new clothes (unless you count a date dress that’s awaiting the right occasion). I’m not depressed. I’m happy, but not distracted. And I’m not currently traveling with the newly single George Clooney.

Though if he plans to be in DC anytime soon, I have the perfect dress to wear to meet him for cocktails.