My daughter gave me a calendar for last Christmas. She had gone through and written some things on each of the months and in June she wrote, “One year since you moved”. At first, it doesn’t seem like a year has gone by since we packed up the Penske truck and took the 3-day (hellish) drive from New Hampshire to Florida. But if I give it more thought, I can see all that I did within that year, and yes, it is believable. In fact, I did pack a lot into the past 12 months.
I had hoped to find a house to buy with a good size yard and plenty of place for gardens. But money, or lack of it, always seems to give so few options in reality. Florida is no longer the super cheap place to live that it used to be. Without money, you don’t have many options, and you have to end up settling for the best you can do.
One thing I am very grateful for is that I don’t have to move in the near future. Hopefully I will never have to move again, but I know better than to plan on that. At least the house is in good shape. Aside from replacing the AC unit, there isn’t much to do until the fridge stops working, or something like that. No major repairs needed (fingers crossed).
In Florida, summer is like my winter was in the North. Winter was a time to rest (except for shoveling snow and lugging wood for the wood stove). There was no yard work to be done (unless you count snowplowing the driveway). And most winters it was manageable. (2015 was a bad one.) It’s too cold to do much outdoors, and I simply sat at my desk and worked day after day. I was much busier in summer with my gardens and yard work.
Summer in Florida is the time to stay inside. It is NOT the time to garden, unless you want heat-stroke. Believe it or not, it can even be too hot to go to the beach! I’d love to have a pool, but since I don’t, I stay inside and sit at my desk and work day after day. Now, I look forward to Fall, the way I used to look forward to Spring. That is when I can get back outside and do some gardening / yard work.
Hydrangeas are beginning to bloom in the north. Next month all my hydrangeas at my old house (none of it is mine any more, but I like to pretend it is) will be blooming. One day I will go back and take a ride (or walk) past my previous home, just to look at how much the plants have grown. They were my babies. I planted them, and wish I could have stuck around to see them grow year after year. Wishes mean nothing.
If I ever have hydrangeas here, they will have to be in pots. No hydrangeas can possibly withstand the heat of these summers. They would be wilted all the time. I’m sticking with citrus trees and tropical plants. The vegetable garden is still in it’s experimental stage, with netting over it to block the raccoons’ escapades.
So in a year I have done a lot. (All photos are mine, and were taken while I lived in New Hampshire.)