Heave the silver hollow sliverThis morning I put on my running clothes and then decided to rake the yard since it's sunny and somewhat dry and it's supposed to rain off and on for the next two weeks. I raked the boulevard and the front yard and pulled the leaves out of the front gardens and the hedge too and down between the houses on each side, then I came around and raked all the leaves in the backyard too, getting under the porch, barbecue and treehouse even.
Piercing through another victim
Turn and tremble be judgmental
Ignorant to all the symbols
Blind the face with beauty paste
Eventually you'll one day know
Change my attempt
good intentions
Limbs tied, skin tight
Self inflicted his perdition
Should I, could I
Change my attempt
good intentions
Should I, could I
3 bags total.
I tilled up my garden and tried and failed to rake the leaves out of the woodchips around the rose and lilac bushes so I just took all of it away down to a good layer and I'll replace it anyway in a few more weeks, roundabout Victoria's birthday which is Official Garden-Planting Week here because from then on the weather is virtually guaranteed.
I'm excited. This year I'm doing new things based on all the knowledge gleaned from previous years living here. Like knowing grass doesn't grow on clay soil but wildflowers do, and it takes five giant bags of earth to make the gardens lush and accomodating. And that planting one single Oregano sprig gives me a year's worth of heavy spice use. And lettuce is pointless and takes up too much room. Oh and shade plants don't like me. At all.
And compost! I have a bin from last summer and ew yuck, I'm guessing I'll have awesome dirt this year.
I guess there's therapy in sliding my hands into worn cotton gloves and digging in the muck. Effort from my arms and back muscles results in a weird sort of pride in having one of the nicest homes on a worn-by-time block that just needs a little more muscle and a little more effort and it could be just amazing but the people who live in my neighborhood have jobs and bills and lives and so they do what is needed and not a lot more and no one can fault them for that. If I didn't love that satisfaction I get from hardcore lawn work I doubt I would do it, but it's kind of like running. Once you're done you feel better.
Mmm...dirt endorphins.
I think I've lost it.
This isn't to say I'm going to let plant reports take over my journal, I just thought I would once again attempt to be less one-dimensional. It's as hard in life as it is here sometimes but sometimes we all need a break from it too. Yes, even me. So I'll ignore the fight with Lochlan and the almost-fight with Ben and PJ's horrible singing (you couldn't keep up with Jesse if you TRIED, baby) and the hungry rumblings within since this girl hasn't had breakfast or finished a whole cup of coffee yet even but I'm calm and I'm okay and I'm really freaking happy with the grass.
So there.