Garden Girl

One of my current health goals is to be more present and enjoy living in the moment that life is happening (i.e., now). That means sleeping eight hours (at night -- but since I'm posting this at 1:45 AM, you can probably guess how consistent I am on that count), spending more time with people (a work in progress), and finding creative outlets. This week, the latter played out in me spending two hours gardening/weeding in the rain. And, surprisingly enough, I enjoyed every moment (at least, until I was soaked through and shivering . . . but I was smart enough to call it quits when that happened).

This is not the first time I've tried my hand at the growing arts. Unfortunately, the majority of my past attempts have resulted in dead, dying, or otherwise sad plants. I've planted vegetables (I think last year's total crop was 10 tiny tomatoes), herbs (those fared better, but soon died, and I'm currently trying to not kill the oregano and rosemary plants my mother-in-law passed on to me), cacti (with which I achieved even more -- but not total -- success), and various flower plants (which were practically doomed from the start).

In spite of my depressing track record with all things green, I am hopeful about my newest venture, taking place in a fallow space in the front yard. I have a number of reasons for this hope, which flies in the face of all evidence concerning my black thumb, including:
  1. I specifically chose plants that had tags boldly labeled "EASY TO GROW."
  2. I actually read said tags.
  3. I listened to said tags' advice regarding sunshine needs. The front yard only gets morning light, so I picked plants that require only partial sun.
  4. I tried to go for hardy plants (see #1).
All that to say . . . I have hope. And even if I kill off yet another collection of plants, I enjoyed the process. I felt present and alive in the moment, and I call that success. Besides, I still have a handful of vegetable seed packets for the backyard that I can looking forward to wreaking havoc upon.

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