I’ve been informed by my conscience that I have not been faithful with my blog lately. I find it odd that my moral core would nudge me about writing on my blog, still perhaps I have some duty to the universe about expressing my thoughts, which are varied. Not sure why.
Have you ever analyzed your thinking process? I’m sure all of us have at some point. My mind, for instance, goes all over the place. Lately I’ve been wrapped up in my meager attempts to get my books into hands of readers, which is probably the most difficult project I have ever done. That, and I worry because my husband is going through cancer treatment right now and where he is very active working around the house, he’s losing weight. I’m not a big fan of putting any kind of foreign substance in my body, so to watch him have to absorb chemicals that are meant to kill cells is somewhat upsetting. The doctor says he’s going to be all right in the end, but that doesn’t make the struggle any easier.
We have almost 2 acres of rural property. Our front yard is populated with fruit trees and blueberries, and our backyard, well, I’d say our backyard is in continual transition. Up until last year my husband worked long hours driving a bus, and so it was only me trying to make things work. When we bought the place, there was nothing there except hard pan because the owner before us also owned a backhoe and he had removed any trace of topsoil so he could make bumps for his ATV. Unfortunately for him, his ATV riding landed him with two broken ankles and no work so he had to sell the place.
When we moved in we trucked in topsoil and made a garden, then we built a greenhouse and because I’m a private sort of person I planted bamboo. Now we have paper birch trees, dogwood, maple, even an oak tree that my daughter brought me. The back yard is a jungle with assorted plants and grass. Oh. And oregano which I planted years ago and has now gone wild. Everywhere! I call this the oregano farm. I like oregano. You don’t have to mow it. This year my plan is to pull up the grass that is trying to choke out the flowers that are going wild (forget-me-nots, Shasta daisies, columbines, foxglove, phlox, veronica, lavender, shamrock, wild poppies) and let the flowers take over the hillside inste
And it’s fun. I sit under the cherry trees (which are also going wild) and carefully loose the grass and weeds away from the flowers, piece by piece, and apologize if I accidentally sit on something I meant to save.
I find those hours the most pleasant of all my days. Often they bring great inspiration for my stories, but most of all they bring peace. I can’t wait for the hillside to be covered with color.
Maybe that’s the Monet in me.