Memorial Day weekend: it's time to take stock.
I have several thoughts this morning. Here's one: if I did "all the spring garden work" in April, then why am I so busy doing garden work now? Another: why is this day so full, given that I had absolutely nothing scheduled for it? And one more: am I ever likely to sit back and let this season wash over me with its singular beauty, enjoying every sensual moment without feeling compelled to get up and, for instance, pull some weeds? As a P.S. I'll add this, which a friend recently posed: am I going to reengage in the more serious writing, the one that lead, for example, to the publication of Like A Swallow?
The answers to these have one thing in common: all that I do now is by choice. Well, perhaps not the blundering around, trying to get my knee to function properly. That's a necessity. But the rest? I like moving sprightly from one project to the next! I will always have a million things that I will want to do with my time. I am not a moper, a recliner, a brooder, I meditate actively, I choose creating stuff over letting time drag me along on something like a river cruise, where I passively look at the scenery, entering none of it. All this may sound great, but it means that I am forever running. Which has its drawbacks.
This morning, I was up and ordering breads and pastries as the bakery opened. A quick walk to feed the animals, to take note of another raccoon, trapped, to admire the small blooms -- here, take a look at a couple of false indigo plants opening up their blue or yellow flower buds.
And then I'm off -- to the downtown farmers market before it gets crazy crowded on this gorgeous day. I haven't the stamina yet for the whole thing, but in addition to salad greens, I do pick up flowers from my favorite flower vendor. It's all blue today -- she tells me with a smile. I love this aesthetic that she brings to her bouquets. Simple but thoughtful. Seasonal and beautiful, and at a good price!
To the bakery, then home, for breakfast on the porch.
We talk about happiness. Ed is a content kind of a guy, so you'd think I'd let him rest in his cubicle of modest joy. But, he does care deeply about the natural world and there isn't a news story out there that doesn't bring with it a negative consequence on the environment. And if it's there, he will find it. Even the positives have their detrimental effects! So this is what we talk about: how to live with an ongoing frustration (with people's cavalier destruction of nature) without letting it take over your whole mindset, so that it becomes the underlying theme for so much of what you say and do. I think we all need to take stock every once in a while of where we're at in our day-to-day expressions. If we feel happy, isn't it grand to share that thought too with those whose paths you cross?
The rest of the day we spend on work in the front yard. The new shade garden which we are building by the front entrance has me so close to the roadside flower bed that I cannot stand any more the neglect I have bestowed on that field of hapless flowers. As Ed heaves dirt and edging timbers to the new bed, I weed and water front road bed with the poorest soil and the driest environment. It's work well spent -- to my eyes it always looks so much better after I've given it my full attention.
And finally the bed is ready. I plant my shade loving perennials.
And toward evening, we go for a walk. I was a tad disturbed at how quickly I got tired from walking this morning. I have to build up my stamina again! Besides, it's such a pretty day and you can't just spend all your waking hours digging around in dirt! We do our usual loop. The whole thing! Slowly.
(on the way to our beloved park -- we haven't gone there for over a month!)
Easy dinner of reheated soup. And a delightful late evening of doing not much of anything at all. Happily.
