Grubbing in the ground feels wonderful. I’ve become a kid with permission to get dirty. I’m getting more than exercise here. Earth-connected, soil immersed, I am turning everything over. – Gunilla Norris, writer, meditation teacher, psychotherapist. (1939-)
I’m thankful for a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home…I am thankful for piles of laundry and ironing because it means my loved ones are nearby. – Nancie J. Carmody
By the time I woke up it was about 31 degrees, but the weather report promised low winds, rising temperatures, and plenty of sunshine. I knew then it was going to be a great day. With a weather report like that Sam would definitely be on the water fishing whereas I was excited to have a whole day with only one commitment. Each Wednesday up until Easter I attend a short Lenten Bible study. After that I’d be heading home to catch up on projects that needed doing and were prevented by busy schedules, cold temperatures, and rain.
First on the list was washing the car. When you live on a gravel road in the Prairie the car will continually be covered in dust especially on the tailgate. I find this annoying so I was excited to wash the car. I know I could zip through a carwash for 10 bucks, but I like being as self-sufficient as I can be. I suited up adding an apron over my Bible study dress and sweater, changed into rubber boots, and a light-weight waterproof coat. I gathered my tools – mop bucket, long bristled brush, dish detergent, a towel, glass cleaner and paper towels. The sun was warm, and the job was complete in no time. Instant gratification. I put away the car-washing tools and started a load of laundry.
Next, I went to the tool shed for a shovel. There were at least four shovels with rusty blades so I picked one. My favorite shovel for the digging project is a trench shovel, sometimes called a ditch shovel. I’d failed to remind myself to purchase one so the blade shovel would do fine. The rosemary bush in the flowerbed in the front of the house was destroyed by the extreme freeze a few months ago. There was no hope it would survive. With the ground being saturated the large plant popped right out of the ground with the greatest of ease. A second rosemary survived in the greenhouse and could replace the departed rosemary or maybe another birdbath would be nice. Afterwards there was no need for coats or sweaters. Temperatures approached the sixties.
Years ago, when the house had foundation repairs, I salvaged bits of Swedish ivy and planted it on a trellis, in a flower box and near a birdbath by the driveway. Eventually ivy overwhelmed the trellis, the flower box, the birdbath and the nearby trees. Ivy covered everything much like wisteria in spring. I’m allergic to most ivy so I covered up with gloves up to my elbows along with rubber boots, and apron. I freed the birdbath, the trellis, and some of the flower box. It was enough for one day. After all spring has arrived and there will be plenty of time for flowerbeds and ivy.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
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Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 34 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
