The Garden

I worked in my garden today. And by worked in my garden, I mean I pulled weeds, including some huge ones that rival my own arms, and appeared two years ago. Last Spring wasn't such a good one for my garden. It wasn't such a good one for our entire family, having just said "goodbye" to our dear Ian, who died of cancer at 13. Today we celebrate knowing him, a year after his passing.

I'm actually encouraged that I was able to work for so long, nearly an hour! That's @ 50 minutes longer than when I began this year's work in early March. I'm pooped, and fine, if you're going to get technical about it, yes, I took one break. Okay, so I had a thought and came in to write and got a bit carried away, but I did go back! And the entire front looks like someone loves it again.

Steve is mowing (as I write) the back yard, the one full of small green trees that used to be called grass. A few years ago moss began to creep in - remember we live in "the wetlands." Last year we decided that 'earth knows best,' so I pulled any grass remaining in those areas and the moss is growing into a lovely carpet - one that needs no mowing!! For someone supposedly so smart, it sure takes me a long time to catch onto things.

I'd tell you about how I had to spend seven hours in the hospital emergency room yesterday and get two units of blood due to my total collapse and growing cancer, but right now I'm more interested in my garden. I'll be okay.

Oh, but my back is killing me from leaning over to pull those darn weeds. Leaning over to touch the earth used to be so much easier. At least I have my flowers, that grow up to touch me.