That we're still sheltering at home. I pray this ends soon. Not to mention the weather hasn't been all that great. Sure would like some warm weather. I swear it was nicer in March. And the rain doesn't help. I know, I know, April showers bring May flowers.
The only bright spot is the beautiful daffodils. Bright yellow sure helps brighten the yard even through the clouds and rain. And they seem to be lasting a longer time than usual. I love the clusters along the fence. There's also some white/cream colored ones in the back corner of the yard. Looks like a big bouquet.
I think I've mentioned before we had a lake in the back yard. Okay, not an official lake, not even a pond although the width and length of it could qualify for a pond but the depth would disqualify it. Of course the ducks liked it.
So my younger son suggested I order some dirt. Not terribly expensive, he said, and free delivery. So I went online and sure enough it wasn't terribly expensive but it wasn't showing free delivery. So I called them. The lady said free delivery was only with a whole truck load. I was ordering 7 yards. I asked what was a truck load. She said 8 yards. Well heck I knew the yard could handle it. Truth be told I could probably use another truck load.
So I asked my son when I should order it since he and my other sons were going to haul it from the drive to the back yard. No way my husband and I could do it. Especially not my husband, who suffers from COPD.
At any rate, son said whenever you want. Any Saturday. So I called and lo and behold, they could deliver it that Saturday (last week). I text messaged my son and told him to line up his brothers.
It was a chilly day, which was probably good because no one worked up a sweat. Dirt got hauled spread. Like I said I could probably get another truck load. Not sure the boys would be too anxious to spend another day hauling dirt. Oh, and my daughter in law helped also, God bless her.
So there's some puddling and it probably drowned the grass seed in that area. I'm either going to have to order more dirt, or buy bags of dirt. But at least I don't have a swamp out there now and it looks a hundred percent better.
Next week we have to pick up 3 flats of flowers we ordered through the high school. 32 plants to a flat. Going to be busy planting them and I have some seed to put in also. Problem is, I have to weed first and it's been so wet, I hate the thought of doing it. I will have to get out there soon.
The plants probably can't go in right away as there's still a danger of frost. All those plants are going to take a while to plant, not to mention figuring out where to put them all and which ones where. I'm looking forward to it, though. It's going to mean warm weather and since we still have to shelter at home, warm weather will be much appreciated.
Excerpt from Elusive Mission For this and a list of my other books go to:
Books We Love
Vanessa’s
stomach tensed. She had to get out of here. Needed some air, needed to escape.
She
got in her car and started driving, to where was anyone’s guess. The quaintness
of Strongsville, Ohio, especially the town square with the gazebo and all the
Christmas decorations, brought tears to her eyes. Vanessa wiped them away and
parked the car. Shoppers and carolers filled the sidewalks. Ignoring them,
Vanessa hurried past decorated shops until she came to a small church. St.
Matthew’s Lutheran Church, the sign out front said. Two huge wreaths hung
on the heavy oak doors. The small white building beckoned to her.
Vanessa
opened the door, walked up the steps and stood at the entrance. The quiet of
the empty church filled her soul. It had been too long since she had attended
services. Charles wasn’t particularly religious, but at least he had allowed
her to have Alyssa baptized. She should have gone to church more often by
herself, but after spending Saturday evening at the club, it was all too easy
to sleep in on Sunday morning.
Light
showed through the stained glass windows, illuminating the red carpet-covered
aisle way. A nativity scene at the front captured her attention and drew her
forward. Memories from her childhood flashed through her mind.
Her
father always helped set up the nativity at church when she was a little girl,
and they let her put Baby Jesus in the crèche. A noise from the side aisle interrupted
her thoughts. Vanessa stopped, saw a flash of red and the side door slammed.
Funny, she hadn’t noticed anyone else when she came in.
Oh,
well, Vanessa shrugged and continued to the front and knelt down. What in the
world? Next to the nativity scene sat a car seat. An infant, three, maybe four
months old with dark curly hair, opened its almond shaped dark eyes and reached
its chubby arms out to her.
“What
have we here?” Vanessa unbuckled the seat belt. “Hello, precious.” She picked
up the baby and a note fell on the diaper bag next to the car seat. Vanessa
picked up the paper and read the scribbled words.
Please
take care of my baby. Her name is Grace. Mary.
“Who
could leave someone as precious as you?” Vanessa looked around. No one lurked
in the shadows. Who left the baby? How long had she been here? God, what should
she do? The baby cuddled against her. Vanessa inhaled the sweet smell of baby
lotion, bringing back memory of Alyssa. Tears filled her eyes. For a minute,
she was tempted to take the baby and leave, but she couldn’t do it.
Startled,
when the door at the back of the church slammed, Vanessa turned toward the
sound. A shadow loomed at the entrance and moved toward her. A tall figure
walked down the aisle, checking the pews along the way. Vanessa hugged the baby
against her, held her breath, and let it out when she saw who it was.
“Father,
I’m glad you’re here. I came in here and found this baby. I was just about to
call the police.”
“I’m a
minister, not a priest. Pastor Dan Jacobson, Pastor Dan will do,” he said. “You
found a baby?” His brown eyes sparkled with a glint of gold below raised
eyebrows. “Who do you suppose it belongs to?”
“Yes, I ... uh.” The look on his face told her he
didn’t believe her. Heck, she could have pretended Grace was hers. He wouldn’t
have known. “When I came in someone ran out through that side door. I came up
here to see the nativity scene and….” Vanessa walked away and sat in a pew,
cradling the baby against her chest. What was the use, he didn’t believe her.
She didn’t need this. Not now. She had enough problems of her own.
“I
see, pretty little thing, boy or girl?” Vanessa stood and took a step closer to
him. “Girl.” She stopped next to him. “You aren’t suggesting this child is
mine, are you?” Vanessa looked him straight in the eyes. How dare he? Minister
or not, what gave him the right? “Look, I came in here and found the baby. I
told you someone ran out that door.” Vanessa took a deep breath, let out an
angry sigh. “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “This was lying on the
diaper bag. I didn’t touch anything else.”
Pastor
Dan stared at her, like he was studying her.
Vanessa
stared back at him. Disbelief showed in his face. Like she’d try to pull off
such a stunt? Imagine her abandoning a baby like this. The memory of Alyssa,
clinging to her when Charles tore her away, flashed in her mind. Even now,
Alyssa’s cries when Charles slammed the door ripped her apart.
Pastor
Dan brought her back to awareness. “I see. Well, I guess we’ll have to call
Social Services.” He read the note, then picked up the diaper bag and looked
through it.
Grace
squirmed in Vanessa’s arms and began to cry.
“Probably
hungry.” Vanessa hummed and cuddled the baby and rocked her.
Pastor
Dan pulled out a bottle of formula.
The
warmth of the baby against her chest opened a hole in her heart, missing Alyssa
even more. Her insides trembled, tears burned her eyes, threatened to fall.
“You
have children?” Pastor Dan’s tone softened.
A tear
escaped, fell on her cheek. She nodded, a lump caught in her throat.
“How
many?”
“One.”
Vanessa choked out the word.
How
old?”
“Two.”
The tears burst forth as if a damn had been unleashed. “I’m....” Vanessa
couldn’t speak. She turned away, held back the tears, and paced across the
front to the nativity scene, leaving him standing there.
***
