Plot, plot plot and plot some more. Every Spring, the ideas start swirling in my head, plotting the next bumper crop of life I anticipate spending the next few months battling with. This battle, between me and the plants; me, so impatient, and them, so unequivocally unwilling to cooperate and produce anything remotely resembling that of a vegetable. By the end of this battle, I pledge my unwillingness to put myself through it again....and then Spring happens.
My fingers and palms are throbbing, the skin feels as though it's going to burst into flames, bubble and explode in little craterous eruptions. But it feels so good! 'Cause it means a new beginning, a new chance to try it again. Not to win the battle, but to not have the battle at all by getting a good start, starting first, with myself.
The sprouting buds of green began midsummer last year, and I began my happy dance. Flowers, finally, flowers! Every girl deserves flowers in her garden, and I FINALLY got mine!!! One by one, they emerged from the dark cradle of earth, and one by one, began their climb to maturity. As the summer days passed and Fall "fell" upon us, the buds of flowers unfolded to reveal the wonderous colors of the Universe within. This happened silently, cautiously, and unnoticed.
These daisies are symbolic of life, that things DO remain and can sustain the harshest of conditions. They've survived scorching heat of late August, and drenching rain and hail storms of Winter. Today, on this day, the daisies of last year remain in my plot of dirt. It was during their infancy that things took a turn for the worst with me, and Jesse, too. It was during their blossoms that we teetered on the edge of annihilation of our marriage. The darkest hours of my life went hand in hand with their relentless Wintery blossoms. I am this garden; the me that I lost in these long, hard six months was embodied into the golden petals of these delicate morsels of nature.
So on this sunshiny day, I worked and worked and worked. I drove my hands deep into the Earth and drew to the surface a whole new Universe of life. After about two hours of laboring away at the hard, crusted soil, it was time to knock off, hit the showers and lay out the rest of the day. Diana beat my to it.
And so did Mary Jane.
I am convinced that bubbles are fish crack. There's no slowing down for these buggers...however, it is quite zen to wake up to the sound of the waterfall in the living room.
And then there's the Dr. Suess sprouts. Twisting and turning this way and that...I'm very concerned that I've wasted $30 on seeds that aren't going to produce a damn thing but Dr. Suess rhymes.
My fingers and palms are throbbing, the skin feels as though it's going to burst into flames, bubble and explode in little craterous eruptions. But it feels so good! 'Cause it means a new beginning, a new chance to try it again. Not to win the battle, but to not have the battle at all by getting a good start, starting first, with myself.
The sprouting buds of green began midsummer last year, and I began my happy dance. Flowers, finally, flowers! Every girl deserves flowers in her garden, and I FINALLY got mine!!! One by one, they emerged from the dark cradle of earth, and one by one, began their climb to maturity. As the summer days passed and Fall "fell" upon us, the buds of flowers unfolded to reveal the wonderous colors of the Universe within. This happened silently, cautiously, and unnoticed.
These daisies are symbolic of life, that things DO remain and can sustain the harshest of conditions. They've survived scorching heat of late August, and drenching rain and hail storms of Winter. Today, on this day, the daisies of last year remain in my plot of dirt. It was during their infancy that things took a turn for the worst with me, and Jesse, too. It was during their blossoms that we teetered on the edge of annihilation of our marriage. The darkest hours of my life went hand in hand with their relentless Wintery blossoms. I am this garden; the me that I lost in these long, hard six months was embodied into the golden petals of these delicate morsels of nature.
So on this sunshiny day, I worked and worked and worked. I drove my hands deep into the Earth and drew to the surface a whole new Universe of life. After about two hours of laboring away at the hard, crusted soil, it was time to knock off, hit the showers and lay out the rest of the day. Diana beat my to it.
And so did Mary Jane.
I am convinced that bubbles are fish crack. There's no slowing down for these buggers...however, it is quite zen to wake up to the sound of the waterfall in the living room.
And then there's the Dr. Suess sprouts. Twisting and turning this way and that...I'm very concerned that I've wasted $30 on seeds that aren't going to produce a damn thing but Dr. Suess rhymes. 
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