mornings
2004-04-21

Current

Archived

In Profile
Notes
Volumes
Host

The LiveJournal

__________
Places I spend too much time:
Slashdot
FreshMEAT
Kegboy's mages.
Delta
Penny Arcade
RedMEAT

_________


To get email when I finally get around to
updating:
Powered by NotifyList.com


Every morning of the last two weeks, during the usual scheduled eliptical machine time, I've been heading out back and getting my excercise weeding.

Our (not-so) little plot of land requires a surprising amount of weeding, and none of it dandelion-related.

It took me all last summer to learn which of the little blue flowers were weeds that would choke out the rosebush and poppies, and which were the alyssum that I'd so lovingly planted.

It took me a while to learn which tender little vines were hiding wicked snarls of root, and which were the gentle kisses of cucumber vines.

Now, barely a year later, I stride out into the rising dawn with confidence and purpose, trowel in one gloved hand, yardwaste bin in the other.

Each morning I spend my twenty cardio minutes, reaching down, moving earth, picking out roots, hurling them at the bin, and utterly forgetting to bend down again as I espy a new bud on the rosebush (and since there are hundreds, that's quite a feat), a new sprout where a perennial will soon breathe, new milimetres of growth on the brave and enthusiastic honeysuckle.

So many plants that I feared would not make it through the winter are suddenly lifting their heads from hiding places I can't believe I overlooked, and my greenhouse shopping spree list is dwarfing exponentially.

(well, not really exponentially, but significantly)

We still need a truckload of earth for the extended vegetable patch -- the clay is much improved from last year but it'll be years before the earth is replenished from the state we found it in.

There is grass where I never believed grass could be.

There are buds where I didn't think buds could grow.

Each morning, I stride out into my garden and discover beautiful worlds -- and by seven-fifteen I carry them in my arms to my sleeping husband and envelop him in them.

Then we kiss and shower and kiss and I hurry off to my next burst of carpooling affection.

It's funny -- this all sounds so mundane...

...and yet not at all.

______

2 comments on this spew so far

backup ..random chance.. rollover

______

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