I live in an urban neighborhood in downtown Chicago. The surrounding blocks have brick condo buildings and a few single family homes. No one has a front yard, but each home is responsible for a bit of grass/landscaping between the street and sidewalk in front of their home. Some of my neighbors don’t do much with the area. I’m middle of the road. We’ve invested in some nice shrubs and flowers, but I don’t invest full afternoons in the upkeep.

And then there is the Garden Lady. This woman lives a few streets over and has taken it upon herself to garden other people’s plots without getting permission from the homeowners. She’s really “green” and recycles plants from torn down houses blah, blah, blah. But come on lady, give me a heads up before you start pulling up my flowers. This year she chopped my dogwood bush down to the ground. I loved that bush. It had pretty red branches and wasn’t cheap. (urban garden stores are pricey since people will pay big bucks to bring green into the ‘hood.) This year my dogwood had finally filled in and then THWACK! -hacked off by the Garden Lady. Now, I’m pretty hacked off. Do I confront her? She is such a goody two-shoes, what if I make her cry and anger all the neighbors who worship her?
This post had been brewing for a while. I wrote it a month or so ago and finally decided to post it because-

recently, I was lazily reading the paper on my couch around 8am when I heard pounding outside. I looked out my window and caught the Garden Lady in the act! Thus far, I had never seen her tending our plot. Not sure what to do about the Garden Lady. She’s ballsy thats for sure. Here she is caught in the act of guerilla gardening.

The sign on the right hand side of the picture is her creation. It says, “keep the neighborhood clean” and now sits where my dogwood used to. I’m this close to telling her off and becoming the neighborhood bully.

We recently had an adoption service at church where we prayed that God will blend our natures and make FlyGuy, Little Lassie and I as close as blood relations. The Orthodox church has wonderful wording and symbolism in situations like this. The priest talked about how we are all first children of God, thus related at the core. My family had a small shower for me after church and it was terrific. The best part was when my cousin who is an adoptive mom to 2 boys talked to me about her adoption process. Her boys are now 18 and 24 and I constantly forget they are adopted. They are a very dynamic, attractive, funny family. Their road hasn’t always been easy, but they have a happy ending and it’s very inspiring.

I’m officially writing my letter of resignation to my employer this week. No more teaching for a while. In an effort to catch Little Lassie up on a few missed milestones, we work together for a half hour each morning and afternoon. Work includes putting pegs into holes, sorting shapes and feeding her babydoll a bottle. It’s different than teaching braille to visually impaired children, but its a good different. Our work time has helped us to bond and enjoy each other. At times, I have felt inadequate or flawed because I didn’t fall in love with Little Lassie on day one. Now I know love that comes slowly is just as valuable as love that strikes like lightning.

The birth mother still claims she cannot make a decision about adoption. She says she knows adoption is best for the baby, but she basically can’t bring herself to do it. The agency has told her she must make a choice on Monday. FlyGuy and I are doing our best to move on. Won’t go into details today because I’m trying to count the things I’m thankful for on this holiday.

I see that many people have followed this particular chapter of our story and I’m honored. To Those of you who have reached out to comment on this blog and help us at home during this rather uncomfortable time, Thank You. Your actions and comments have not gone unnoticed. I am grateful for your presence in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving to those in the U.S.

and

Happy Thursday to all the rest