Daily rambles about quilting, gardening, reading, cooking and just plain old being.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Garden Therapy

Well, I've been doodling and drawing more and more, yet I just can't seem to write everyday. I think about things I want to write about but either the time to do it never presents itself or I forget what I wanted to write about in the first place (or both).

Today I bought some strawberry plants and then spent the day turning the old strawberry patch and expanding it. My whole body is tired, but it was worth it and just what I needed. I was a human tiller today--hard work, but I'm okay with that kind of manual labor because it gives your mind the freedom to wander as your body does the work. We have a tiller, but I have issues with using it. Firstly, I don't actually know how to start it! Secondly, it is toooooo loud. Thirdly, I think it wants to eat my feet. Even though the tines are in the front it just seems a little too hungry for me and it scares the crap out of me.

My husband thinks I am crazy for doing things so "old school" and slow. I think he is crazy for not slowing down and enjoying the journey, even when the journey is long and arduous. Of course, the tiller would have only done half the job, so my way was the "right" way to do it today. It would have turned it all, but it wasn't going to pull all the weeds and grass roots out. So, the human tiller reigns supreme again---slow, quiet, and safe for feet!

I was working in the garden because when I saw the forecast for 70 degrees in February I immediately said, "I'm staying outside all day even if I have to invent reasons to stay out there". Seriously, seventy degrees in February! Are you hearing me, 70 in FEBRUARY! Thanks you Global Warming! The strawberry patch just provided me with a purpose, because I was going to spend the day in the sunshing no matter what.

Digging gives you all kinds of time to think and even after I had blisters and my back was aching I kept thinking, "This is hard, but I'd rather do this than try to teach English for 78 more days (70 after you subtract my 8 sick days).

Even when I tired of digging and commenced scooping up a month's worth of dog-doo from the yard I couldn't help but think "I could even do this, I would rather do this for 70 more days---and shit doesn't talk back!" I am trying to stay positive about finishing the year, but Friday was brutal...the kind of day that makes you want to deliver your keys to the office and walk away and never look back. I needed a day of hard labor, sunshine, birdsong, and time in my own head to erase it.

All gone, and enough from me for now.

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