I love seed catalogues. I love looking at gardening websites. Starting in mid-February, when its dreary, gray and cold on the northern plains, my thoughts turn to spring and my garden.
I grow both flowers and food. For food, I grow tomatoes and make heaps of homemade sauce.
I have a salsa garden too, which is better than anything you can buy. (Homemade salsa rocks.)
I've even grown cantaloupe, but my attempt at watermelon was an epic fail.
There's a bit of a spiritual element gardening. Time, after all, began in a garden.
For me, it's a sort of stress relief. There's something therapeutic about playing in the dirt. Whether its getting back to nature or the very act of creating something out of nothing.
I also love being surrounded by beauty. I think greeting guests with flowers at the front door is a lovely way to welcome them.
This summer I have an empty garden. My church plot, which was to be for my vegetables, lays fallow. I do have a bit of sadness. It's what could have been, versus my reality. Some days, reality quite frankly stinks. This hasn't exactly been the summer I planned.
My intention was bucket lists and family fun and more. Instead its been hospitals,
doctors and nursing homes.
While I still have the same 24 hours in the day, I haven't had the energy or motivation to garden.
It's far too late to plant. This summer is a loss on the dirt front.
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