Gardening.
2003-04-28

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There was a timeless stretch yesterday evening where that slippery shade of Honestly Happy bubbled up somewhere amongst my organs and kept growing until I worried that there might not be room left for dinner.

Standing with our toes in the mud, two of my favourite people in the universe with faces shining.

Val, who walked into my life when we both seemed to need each other most, popping up from nowhere with her face as bright as it has ever been, shyly pulling off her socks to come squish and squelch through the freshly waterred mud and then joining me with the kind of sincere enthusiasm that has become so rare.

Together we seeded and mudded and played in the dirt, laughed and challenged the sun with our brightness.

That morning when it was just Dave and I, when the raking was done and my half-assed masonry attempts at framing the vegetable garden was three-quarters to blisters on my thumb, when Dave began placing the honeysuckle that I'd spuriously scooped from the garden store (when I was sent on another errand entirely)...

Watching him line the pots up against the fence, talking of gazebos and asking honest questions about when they would flower, when they would be tall enough to twine with the woodwork, the glow from the sunburn peeking through his t-shirt, the energy borne of enthusiasm that pushed him in great magical circles about our garden.

Our garden.

Sitting with barbecued steaks balanced on our laps, surrounded by peppers and corn and onions, a bottle of wine perched on the air conditioner because the ground and picnic table were too soaked to sit on in the cooling evening, that strange bubbling popped and fizzed inside me.

Curled on up the couch later, blanketed from the cold, macrameing our little hearts out I took a moment to feel desperately silly and homey, but the feeling passed as I pulled the knot at the bottom of the new plant hanger tight.

(Some days I worry about turning boring.)

Seeding the wildflowers, Val and I with a handful in each fist, we hurled them around the base of the (cherry?) tree and blew them kisses filled with wishes and dreams.

I can't get over the greatness of that gesture, nor the honeysuckle plants lined up against the fence. In my heart I can not believe that in a few months there will be the scent and colour of those flowers, in our home, in my life... (and outside hawaii)

I don't know why any of it seems so impossible either, but I am all too happy to be suddenly surrounded by the impossibly wonderful.

And I love him so dearly.

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Last few Rants:

I guess this is goodbye. - 11:57 a.m. , 2005-02-10
Endorphins, stress, and magickal mystery - 5:07 p.m. , 2005-02-02
stress, incoming - 4:42 p.m. , 2005-01-28
heaving great happy sighs - 3:05 p.m. , 2005-01-24
Imposter syndrome strikes again - 1:20 p.m. , 2005-01-19