I have this problem that I don’t know what to do about. I really like to keep a nice neat lawn. I have all types of annual flowers and lawn ornaments because it is my little hobby, I am a retired grandmother raising 3 small grandchildren and my flower and vegetable garden is a large part of my recreation. Every fall when the leaves are just about all blown down I keep my lawn raked. My neighbor rakes hers too, but just leave piles all over her yard and don’ pick them up. Of course they promptly blow right back to my yard I have just raked. This is an on going problem cause I’ve talked to her about it and she says she will get back to it but never does.

I know with all the wold shattering problems going on,hunger,medical care,housing,unemployment,crime, and all the other issues this is a real tiny thing to get upset over,
but I can’t help it, it does upset me. Do you know how I should or what I should do about it? I would offer to pick up all her leaves, but she gets touchy about it cause I am way older than her and she considers me her elder. I can’t afford to pay someone to do it cause I’m on a fixed income which is one of the reasons I do my own. All of my grown kids have moved to other states and my old friends have either moved out of this neighborhood or died. My grand children’s mother is in no condition to do much of anything cause she is a addict which is why I have adopted my grand kids. What would you do?
Thank everyone for their great ideas although in IL we can’t build fires anymore against the air pollution laws.
I’m 65 and have no idea how to make a compost heap and it sounds like a great idea, but how do you go about it?

I have been tending a family plot for several years. Then my grandmother passed last August, and all my gardening was upheaved. But now the plot is full, nobody else will be buried there any more, and I would need to start from scratch. Any ideas on planting flowers that will come back next year and maybe a small type bush?

A friend gave me some extra copper pipe that he had from a job and I decided to melt it down and make a decorative wind chime for my grandmother

My question is.. how can I get a heat source to melt down copper? The material has a melting point of almost 1100 degrees Celsius. Is there something I can buy that will help me with this? I just want to get the pipe hot enough to make it ply able so I can etch decorations for the wind chime.

I know its a couple months away, but i don’t know what to get my grandmother for christmas.
She collects wind chimes, but she has so many (and she got like three last year) that don’t want to get her another one.
She also really likes antiques. Her den is full of antique furniture that no one’s allowed to sit on and a whole bunch of other antique things like lamps mirrors and tables.
I’m kind of on a budget too.
Any ideas?

I moved into my townhome last Feduary and it has a very small patio. It’s size is about 15×25 and it’s all concrete. I have some plants in pots that I have had for over 2 or 3 years but since I moved here they aren’t doing well. For example, my trumpet vine has not started blooming yet. last year it blooomed all summer and winter. My geraniums are pale and then turn yellow and dropping the leaves. Some are getting hollow and dark like if they are rotting. I don’t want to lose them, I inherited them from my dear grandmother.

As I walked up the old, unstable stairs, I paused to look over my shoulder at the dark, twisted trees of the forest that bordered my grandmother’s house. A strange and sudden feeling came over me. It was as though some one was watching me. Quivering with fright I ran to the front door.

I found my grandmother fast asleep in her rocking chair. She awoke when my foot found that one creaky floor board. “Rosie, I’m glad you’re finally here,” she said to me. “I’ll show you your room.” I followed her down the hall way to my impeccably clean room with the view of her interesting vegetable garden. I placed my luggage on the bed and looked out at the purple lettuces. “What are they?” I asked my grandmother. “I’ve been experimenting,” she replied. Not only were there purple lettuces, there were also blue straw berries and bright pink tomatoes.

Later that evening my grandmother tucked me into bed and asked, “Are you too old for stories?” “Never,” I replied with a smile. Although I had heard this story so many times, I never grew bored of it. It was such a lively story and when ever my grandmother told me it, it always felt as if I were in the story.the story was about two sisters named Agnes and Marthlen who were fleuries. They had small, iridescent wings. Although they were immortal, they were always slowly ageing. The sisters were very different from each other. Agnes was kind and gentle, while Marthlen was such a trouble maker. Marthlen had an obsession with staying young forever and had discovered an enchantment that would steal the youth of others. Agnes also had discovered this enchantment and knew that her sister would have found it too. Agnes tried to reason with Marthlen, but failed. This disagreement led to the parting of their ways. My imagination was interrupted by my grandmother’s words.” Well that’s enough for tonight. Goodnight dear.” She turned off the lights and closed the door.

My eyes sprung open as I heard some one calling my name from outside of the window. Was I still dreaming? I slid out of bed and followed the mesmerizing voice. In a trance – like state, I walked towards the voice into the forest. I couldn’t see well in the dark but I could hear the trees whistling in the wind. Suddenly my feet stopped. I was standing in front of a very large tree with a little blue door built into its trunk. I continued to follow the voice through the door and into a room. In the room I saw a beautiful woman with glowing skin and golden hair sitting at a table. On the table was a glass container, in which there was a beautiful red rose. “I have been expecting you Rosie,” the voice chimed. The voice belonged to this beautiful woman.

I was strangely drawn to the rose. “Isn’t the rose just lovely? You can have it if you like, it would look nice against your complexion.” Entranced, I reached for the rose, “NO!” came a roar from behind me. I turned to see my grandmother in the door way, “Agnes, we could have shared this one’s youth,” the young women said.

My Grandmother rushed to the container and the rose and knocked it over. I watched as they both shattered into a million pieces. A shriek of terror filled the room. I turned to see the woman, who turned out to be Marthlen, begin to wrinkle and wither before our very eyes. In silence we gazed at the old woman before us. “Come Rosie,” my grandmother said, with a twinkle in her eye. “Let’s take my elderly sister home for a bowl of purple lettuce soup. It does wonders for the complexion.” We walked back through the forest to my grandmother’s house.

Do you have any ideas? Is there anything that I should change?

This story is called – The tale of the Fleuries

As I walked up the old, unstable stairs, I paused to look over my shoulder at the dark, twisted trees of the forest that surround my grandmother’s house. The forests eyes were glaring at me as I slowly continued up the stairs. Quivering, I ran to the front door.

I found my grandmother fast asleep in her rocking chair. She awoke when my foot found that one creaky floor board. “Rosie, I’m glad you’re finally here,” she said to me. “I’ll show you your room.” I followed her down the hall way to my impeccably clean room with the view of her interesting vegetable garden. I placed my luggage on the bed and looked out at the purple lettuces. “What are they?” I asked my grandmother. “I’ve been experimenting,” she replied.

Later that evening my grandmother tucked me into bed and asked, “Are too old for stories?” “Never,” I replied with a smile. Although I had heard this story so many times, I never grew bored of it. It was about two sisters named Agnes and Marthlen who were fleuries. They had small, iridescent wings. Although they were immortal, they were always slowly ageing. The sisters were very different from each other. Agnes was kind and gentle, while Marthlen was such a trouble maker. Marthlen had an obsession with staying young forever and had discovered an enchantment that would steal the youth of others. Agnes also had discovered this enchantment and knew that her sister would have found it too. Agnes tried to reason with Marthlen, but failed. This disagreement led to the parting of their ways. My imagination was interrupted by my grandmother’s words.” Well that’s enough for tonight. Goodnight dear.” She turned off the lights and closed the door.

My eyes sprung open as I heard some one calling my name from outside of the window. Was I still dreaming? I slid out of bed and followed the mesmerizing voice. In a trance – like state, I walked towards the voice into the forest. I couldn’t see well in the dark but I could hear the trees whistling in the wind. Suddenly my feet stopped. I was standing in front of a very large tree with a little blue door built into its trunk. I continued to follow the voice through the door and into a room. In the room I saw a beautiful woman with glowing skin and golden hair sitting at a table. On the table was a glass container, containing a beautiful red rose. “I have been expecting you Rosie,” the voice chimed. The voice belonged to this beautiful woman.

I was strangely drawn to the rose. “Isn’t the rose just lovely? You can have it if you like, it would look nice against your complexion.” Entranced, I reached for the rose, “NO!” Came a roar from behind me. I turned to see my grandmother in the door way, “Agnes, we could have shared this one’s youth,” the young women said.

My Grandmother rushed to the container and the rose and knocked it over. I watched as they both shattered into a million pieces. A shriek of terror filled the room. I turned to see the woman, who turned out to be Marthlen, begin to wrinkle and wither before our very eyes. In silence we gazed at the old woman before us. “Come Rosie,” my grandmother said, with a twinkle in her eye. “Lets take my elderly sister home for a bowl of purple lettuce soup. It does wonders for the complexion.” We walked back through the forest to my grandmothers house.