As I've mentioned in earlier posts (but never really explained), Opie and I are getting ready to move.
You might think that buying a new house, moving, and getting our current house ready to sell while in the midst of skin cancer treatment & recovery is a little bit completely insane.
You would, in fact, be right. It's nutty cakes...but it was one of those deals we just couldn't pass up.
It was Opie's cousin's house that I've been obsessed with for years...In fact, after the first time we went over there for dinner, when we were driving home, I told Opie "If they ever sell that house, we're buying it."
He laughed, like I was kidding.
I wasn't kidding.
So when the cousin and his wife decided to downsize and offered us a great deal on it, we knew we couldn't let a little thing like horrible facial scarring stand in out way. I mean, if you're going to hide yourself away like a hermit, you might as well do it in a house you love!
In any case, the beauty of buying a house from family is that, even though we don't officially close until the end of May, we've been able to slowly start moving our stuff to the new house.
The only problem with this is that Opie and I have VERY different strategies when it comes to familial relocation. He us under the impression that it is best to go through our closets and storage areas, take over the things we aren't currently using, and get them put away in a organized fashion. I am of the firm opinion that I love my freaking kitchen with a love that is more than love and I've had all my cool Mickey Mouse gadgets in storage for years, and I should spend a few hours every day arranging them in an aesthetically pleasing fashion.
Poor, deluded Opie also doesn't understand that some of the things we need to take with us are the plants and flowers that I have spent 8 years cultivating....like the hibiscus.
Which was the subject of the following blog back in 2015:
Well, after the unfortunate “NeighborsGet A Monster-Sized Dog” issue, we're biting the bullet and having a new fence installed.
And if you think this process has occurred without drama and brouhaha then you've never read this blog before.
It all started with the hibiscus. This beautiful, big hibiscus that is growing through the old chain link fence and dwarfing the plants around it. It flowers for months and months every summer and is absolutely gorgeous.
And if you think this process has occurred without drama and brouhaha then you've never read this blog before.
It all started with the hibiscus. This beautiful, big hibiscus that is growing through the old chain link fence and dwarfing the plants around it. It flowers for months and months every summer and is absolutely gorgeous.
And kind of huge.
 |
| The original Hibiscus |
“We can't really build around that.” The fence guys said. "And if you leave it there, it could warp the new fence."
“We'll have to rip it out," Opie said.
And I stared at him in abject horror. "We are not MURDERING that hibiscus!"
"I don't think it's really murder when it's a plant," he said.
But I wasn’t about to listen to that kind of nonsense. So I flat out refused to participate in his horrifying bushicide plot and began looking up ways to transplant it to the front yard.
"This is going to be a disaster," Opie predicted.
"Not for YOU," I assured him. "I'll take care of everything."
Everything except pruning the bush down to 1/3 of its original size (per Internet instructions) and cleaning up the subsequent debris. He did that…convinced, I suspect, that I wouldn’t completely clean up the hibiscus detritus (even though I love the word detritus) and instead scatter it around the yard in hopes the lawn guy would be able to mulch it with the mower.
After that, though, the bush’s fate was in my hands. And one morning last week, after Opie left for work, I went out to save the poor hibiscus.
“Easy-peasy,” I told the dogs. “Just dig around the bush in a circle, loosen the roots, and bam! Hibiscus saved!”
2 hours later, it was pretty clear the root-loosening wasn’t really working for us.
“Never fear,” I told the dogs. “We just need to add a little water to the soil, saturate the roots so they slide right out of the ground.”
Which led to 3 more hours of digging in soggy mud.
Though, to be fair, part of that time frame was based on the fact that the ridciulousPrincess Snowflake Sassypants kept scampering through the mud in a very un-Princess like fashion.
In any case, I worked on that hibiscus for a shocking amount of time and it showed no signs of loosening by the time I had to get ready for work.
In any case, I worked on that hibiscus for a shocking amount of time and it showed no signs of loosening by the time I had to get ready for work.
Which is when I came up with my brilliant plan:
Completely flood the roots and hibiscus hole, let it all soak in while I worked my shift online, then come back out and pop it out like a cork from champagne.
And still I think this might have actually worked…except it started to rain.
And when I say “rain” I don’t mean a gentle shower with rainbows peeking through. I mean the kind of torrential downpour that makes you start looking for the proper materials to build an ark.
The hole flooded, the area around the hole flooded, the fence-line flooded…
“This doesn’t look good.” I told the dogs. And they concurred but had no helpful suggestions other than to hint that a few treats and belly-rubs would make everyone feel better.
Seriously, these dogs are very self-involved.
Anyway, I don’t have any pictures of that because I couldn’t take my awesome new camera out in the rain.
I had no trouble taking myself out in the rain, though, because after I finally finished my online shift, I ran out into the storm, and started digging and wading through calf-deep mud, pulling that hibiscus as hard as I could.
To no avail.
It was around this point that I lost whatever tiny grip I had on my sanity and began screaming at the hibiscus in frustration.
"I am the only thing standing between you and CERTAIN DEATH!" I shouted at it. "Don't you understand that? You need to move or DIE."
I'm a little disturbed to report that none of the neighbors came out to investigate the screaming and death threats. Which means they are either completely callous and uncaring OR they have become completely inured to this type of behavior after nearly 4 years of living next to me.
Honestly, I don't know which is worse.
Anyway, there I was in the backyard in a torrential downpour, cursing the hibiscus, threatening the hibiscus, and trying to shake the hibiscus free when Opie got home from work.
"What did you do?" He demanded, looking at the swampland that had once been our backyard.
"EITHER SAY SOMETHING HELPFUL OR GO INSIDE!!" I shrieked.
And he went inside.
Which makes him sound like the biggest jerk in the world until you realize that he was just going in to change out of of his work clothes. He was back in a few minutes, in old clothes and shoes, with a shovel of his own.
And a mere hour and a half later, we got the damn bush out of its earthen prison!
"I am the only thing standing between you and CERTAIN DEATH!" I shouted at it. "Don't you understand that? You need to move or DIE."
I'm a little disturbed to report that none of the neighbors came out to investigate the screaming and death threats. Which means they are either completely callous and uncaring OR they have become completely inured to this type of behavior after nearly 4 years of living next to me.
Honestly, I don't know which is worse.
Anyway, there I was in the backyard in a torrential downpour, cursing the hibiscus, threatening the hibiscus, and trying to shake the hibiscus free when Opie got home from work.
"What did you do?" He demanded, looking at the swampland that had once been our backyard.
"EITHER SAY SOMETHING HELPFUL OR GO INSIDE!!" I shrieked.
And he went inside.
Which makes him sound like the biggest jerk in the world until you realize that he was just going in to change out of of his work clothes. He was back in a few minutes, in old clothes and shoes, with a shovel of his own.
And a mere hour and a half later, we got the damn bush out of its earthen prison!
Which left an unfortunate puddle large enough to drown a dog.
“I’ll drag the hibiscus around front,” Opie said. “And then you can dig a new hole and plant it in the morning.”
“I have to plant it tonight,” I said. “All the guides said you have to get it re-planted as soon as possible or it won’t survive. And,” I finished before he could even ask “I couldn’t dig the hole before-hand because I didn’t know how big the rootball was going to be and what size hole I would need.”
Opie stared at me for a really long time (especially considering we were standing outside in the rain) then began dragging the bush and muttering under his breath…muttering, I’m pretty sure, sweet nothings about how I am the light of his life.
“Go on inside!” I shouted after him. “I’ll dig the new hole! I’LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING!”
But he wasn’t falling for THAT again. He dug the hole, we pushed the hibiscus in, and bam!
The 2019 problem, though, is that I love that stupid hibiscus...after the transplant trauma of 2015, it actually now blooms in two different colors and I think it's gorgeous but after my own transplant trauma I'm pretty sure I'm nt going to be able to move it without Opie's help. And every time I mention it to Opie he says "You already made that joke." like I'm kidding.
So, friends help a flower lover out -- how do I convince Opie that we need to to start planning Operation Hibiscus Rescue 2.0?
