Popping Out Of The Cold Ground

I am enchanted by the idea of my entire property being over run with wild flowers, rampant vegetables, and old fruit trees.  I see plants clinging tenaciously to life and am reminded of myself.  (How dreadfully self absorbed am I? I mean, why don't they remind me of YOU, for example?) I want vines lushly tangling up my fences and pretty little violets and other diminutive flowers popping up through cracks in the pavement of the driveway like little flags of joy screaming out "The plants will win in the end!!!"  even though most of us know that it's the cockroaches who will win.

In any event, not people.

Which is a funny thing to say at this moment because it sounds so pessimistic but I'm not feeling at all pessimistic.  Yesterday I paid a visit to Bi-Mart, a rather run down precursor the Walmart Regime and a place I visit as rarely as possible.  Dusty sales and sad commercialism are not cheerful subjects on any day.  But sometimes I need to search for just the kind of thing you might find languishing on some forgotten shelf in a bargain store.

 
So I went and it turned out to be one of those rare occasions when I stumble on an incredibly great deal!  They had spring bulbs on sale for half off and actually still had some good things such as white Cala Lillies which I love, Maximus Festivus Peonies (I fell for them a couple of years ago and have been dying to plant them ever since), Crocosmia, dahlias, and a bleeding heart!  But that's not all!  They had herbs in 1.5" pots for $1.50 each!  That is half the price of the larger ones but these looked great and herbs grow fast.  I always wish the other nurseries would offer smaller pots for cheaper.

I purchased: 4 English lavenders, 2 parsleys, 6 thymes, 2 sages, 1 French Tarragon, and 4 peppermints.  I am so excited I can't stand it!  I will plant them today. 

In case anyone has been sitting around gripping the seat of their chair wondering how my broken rib is: it's still broken.  It's so much better than it was though that I'm inclined to think I'm going to survive, so you can relax now.

The other night when I was busy not drinking beer I made myself a cup of mint tea grown by my friend Lisa B.  It was really nice.  My favorite is peppermint so I'm going to get a barrel full of it growing.  I am slowly rediscovering the pleasures of herb teas.  I was raised drinking quite a lot of herb teas. 

So many people I know are stressed out right now over very real and challenging concerns over jobs and income and taxes*, and the rising cost of not dying that I want to tell you all to be sure and stop the wheels of despair from churning for just a few minutes every single day.  Go out into the garden and instead of seeing what you haven't done, see what is pretty, what is hopeful, what is popping out of the cold cold ground that we generally think so formiddable and take some deep breaths.  No self scolding.  Leave no room for lurking "Shouldas" and "Couldas" which are poison to happiness.

If you haven't got a garden of your own then go walk in the parks or in the woods or anywhere where you might catch site of unfurling ferns, bright spring bulbs, sweet wild violets, or bunches of lilac buds beginning to extend and color up.  It's everywhere if you want it.  Hope.  It's all around us during this season.  Whether we have dire cares or not. 

I have a confession to make now that has nothing to do with anything I've said so far:  I don't like walking my dog.  Yep, and the guilt I feel over this is pretty huge.  It is not enjoyable to me to have to tether an animal and watch her and try and make her keep pace with me or try to keep pace with her.  I am a walker and I'd like to be getting out and walking more.  But I either must take the dog or not go at all because I feel such guilt.

Not enjoying walking your dog is like not enjoying playing children's games with your child.

It makes me feel like I have a black soul.

I also don't like taking my exercise in the company of other humans.  I don't need a walking buddy.  I like walking alone.  It clears my head.  It is meditative.  Plus I have my own pace and it doesn't match any other human's nor does it match my dog's.  Planning to walk with others, whether human or canine, is an obligation.  It means there are strings attached and expectations extended.  When I walk I want to be free.  Walking is freedom to me.

Saying that made the thought "shoes are not shackles" go through my head and now I cannot get it out.

This morning Philip took the dog out.  So I will make a point of taking a little walk today.  Not a long one though, on account of my rib.  Just enough to get out there by myself and feel the air circulating around me as it move through it.  I will also plant my herbs and potatoes.

For every nail pounded into my coffin I punch holes in the box.



*Philip did our taxes and though we got some back from the IRS, our state is demanding a crazy sum which is basically just another nail in our coffin.  I'm determined not to worry over what can't be helped.  Oregon is gouging us though.  That is not pleasing.