Hi, I'm Bridget (Hi bridget.) and I'm going to talk about gardening today. And I'm not going to talk Trey or Jacob or the emotional rollercoaster of my existence on this planet (raise your hand if you believe that. I didn't think so).
I'm just going to talk about Earth Day 2006.
I bought trees. And more bulbs and even more seeds.
I'm xeriscaping the backyard and eventually the front will morphe slowly into a full english garden.
I dug holes, hauled rocks and manhandled trees bigger than I around the lawn yesterday. The neighbors watched from their windows as I did a half-day angry battle with mother nature in search of the true reward of a garden-annual breathtaking beauty throughout the four seasons. It's going to be lovely.
I probably won't be here to see it. But landscaping done right adds a fortune to a home's value and at some point the house will be sold, I suppose.
I'm not thinking about any of that though. I'm thinking how beautiful everything will be in another few weeks here just in the yard.
I didn't go to the zoo yesterday. I backed out at the very last second and let Trey and Jacob take the kids together. Which was supremely funny to me to see the looks on their faces but they did really well and the kids had a blast for Earth Day. Earth day with Daddy and their godfather (oh yes, when I dig a hole for myself I dig it deep-Jacob is the kids' godfather) together! Wow! The only two men in the world who would fill the kids up with ice cream and junk food and cake and think it's cool and of course the kids will go to bed at the usual time. They've been outside all day, hey?
Well that's not gardening talk, Bridget. You traitor/whore/idiot.
It is. Cultivating beautiful things takes time, so much time. And effort. I always thought gardening and love made perfect allegorical analogies. I probably wrote that wrong. I just like the way it sounds even though it's not quite right. I'm a rambler.
After my gardening efforts the two sugar-flinging idiots (the adult ones, that is) returned with pizza, trying at this point to finish off the children. The kids did go to bed on time, and we three sat around the table and had the world's most civilized conversation about absolutely nothing.
Somewhere I did something good in a past life, I'm sure of it now. I am blessed and it continues. The pot of gold under my rainbow keeps me in life's riches and I'm grateful always.
Trey left and Jacob didn't. It feels nice not to be alone here, it feels comfortable to walk into the kitchen and see Jacob leaning up against the counter smiling at me and knowing I can touch him whenever I want.
He thought the garden looked terrific and he's proud of me for working through my worries for once instead of being consumed by them. He's very good for me in that way, he's postive and mellow and is a little more proactive in obtaining personal peace and happiness than most. He's quite possibly the biggest flowerchild in our circle who ever was, everything is peace and love and nauseating coolness from him. Together we're a deadly combination of throwback hippie sensibilities and freewheeling liberalism. He's the only person who never flinched when I suggest we have a goofy singalong or hug a tree or eat something new and weird and raw or just let things be. Which is funny, since the rest of our circle has forged ahead with their blackberries and designer clothes, spendy coffees and yuppie existences. He is the only other card-wielding Greenpeace member too. And not because of me, it was hilarious when we both found out.
See what I'm saying? He's me, only way taller and well, male. And he has a name at last, because everyone knows who he is anyway, and I got tired of going back to reduce his name to just an initial when I'm writing. He's duly unimpressed with that and he told me if I take the blog down or password it he'll let me read his journal.
No way! I love the comments, I love the visitor stats and I love that people come back again and again to read my life stories because it's satisfying to write about real life instead of fiction sometimes. It's a mental break for me almost and he knows that asking me to close it is akin to suggesting I join the witness protection program and drop off the face of the earth. But he asked, simply on principle.
My garden does look terrific.