A Tip

Advice from Grandma's scrapbook for my friend who is having school group work troubles today...

Maybe, if you’d try, young fellow,
You could make the grade.
But you’ll never do it sitting
Idle and afraid.
Maybe, if that job you’d tackle
With your might and main,
You could do it. But to sit there
Dreading it, is vain.

Maybe, if you worked, young fellow,
You could reach the top.
But you’ll never get there while you
At each barrier stop.
If you’d only keep on going
You might climb the bluff,
But you’ll never do it grumbling
That the road is rough.

If you’d buckle in, young fellow,
You might win a prize.
But rewards are only given
To the youth who tries.
Sitting down and loudly sighing
At each sign of care
Will not, this is straight, young fellow,
Get you anywhere.

-Edgar A. Guest

Thinking

If you think you are beaten, you are.
If you think you dare not, you don’t.
If you’d like to win, but you think you can’t,
It’s almost a cinch that you won't.
If you think that you’ll lose, you’re lost,
For out of the world we find
Success begins with a fellow’s will,
It’s all in the state of mind.
If you think you’re outclassed, you are,
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.
Life’s battle doesn’t always go
To the swifter or faster man,
But sooner or later the man who wins,
Is the man who thinks he can.

CONCERNED*

*I don't know who wrote this, but it was in Grandma's Scrapbook, if I am infringing on any copyright, I'm sorry.

The Making of a Garden

Last year at this time, while we had possession of our house, we hadn't yet moved in. We were busy painting all the walls, installing a dishwasher, and replacing the floors. There was so much work going on inside, that we didn't bother to do anything with the yard. It did help that a month after moving in, I lost my job and we had no money to do anything outside either... but that's another story.

This year however, with the early warm weather, I got the itch to start a garden. I started with this:

This is hanging just outside the patio doors and it contains: Rosemary, Peppermint, and Oregano.
I have another hanging basket shown here:

It has two basil plants (love basil) and dill. I still have to find somewhere with a lot of sun to hang it. Next to that, is a HUGE chive plant that D's mom divided from her garden. That is going to be lovely in sour cream on potatoes from the bbq... mmmmmm. And in the big green metal pot is a hazel tree that D liked. That pot does not drain, so hopefully that tree can swim. Actually I think we may have to dig that tree out and create drainage in the bottom or at least put more plants in there to use up some of that water.

And finally the pièce de résistance, my little shade garden:

It contains hostas and daylilies from D's mom's garden, a couple hostas and an astilbe from my neighbour, T's, garden that didn't grow in hers because her yard is full sun. The rocks around the edge are ones that I dug up while making this garden (no wonder the grass wasn't growing), I hope to slowly replace those stones with ones from the cottage.

Speaking of the cottage, something I haven't done in a while, here is a clipping from my Grandma's Scrapbook:

Results & Roses
Via Aunt Grace Keller

The man who wants a garden fair,
Or small, or very big.
With flowers growing here and there
Must bend his back, and dig.
The things are mighty few on earth
That wishes can attain
Whate’er we want of any worth
We’ve go to work, to gain.
It matters not what good you seek
It’s secret here reposes:
You’ve got to dig from week to week
To get results, – or roses.

Little Parable

Who keeps his eyes upon a star, 

Serene and beautiful  and far, 

May stumble on a stone and fall. 

And he whose eyes are on the dirt 

Will miss the star and walk unhurt. 

We have to choose: no one has it all. 

By Georgie Starbuck Galbraith

Not So Wise

I'm not so sure as I used to be

That I am so very wise.

When I was just twenty-two or three

I'd a brain of a mammoth size.

I knew 'most all that there was to know,

And carried a bulging brow,

But I've found that a lot of it was just not so,

And I'm not so learned now.

I'm not so sure that I'm always right,

As I used to be back then.

I'm not so keen, as I was, to slight

The wisdom of other men.

Oh, I used to think that I knew it all

And got into many a row,

But I've found that most of my brain was gall

And I'm not so learned now.

I'm not so sure that I know what's what,

And I'm no so quick to sneer,

For I've found of wisdom there is a lot

That isn't exactly clear.

And many things that I thought I knew

I've had to unlearn, somehow;

And I'm sometimes puzzled just what to do

For I'm not so learned now.

By Edgar A. Guest