Tuesday, June 8

knuckle deep in dirt

Yesterday was a good, meaty day full of gardening: splitting and moving the herbs and that invasive white iris (that I love.) Dirty hands, cool breezes, cold hose water, mud. Making the dogs suspicious by using the push mower. Drying out the 4 stuffed animals Donovan left out in the rain the other day. (Donovan is the rottweiler.) Weeding ~ I love weeding. When I'm getting brain-fried in the studio, I'll take a break and go weed. Right now we have no weeds in the garden, due to the past week's studio grindstone.

I planted pepper and basil seeds, and tided around and dreamed and smiled. At one point, I looked over to see Mimi having an intimate whispered conversation with the catnip, rubbing her face in the leaves with an occasional lick, eyes half-closed. (for those of you who don't know, Mimi is a cat.) Mimi really enjoys her life.

And I love watching the teeny birds (at other times aka the damn house sparrows) fluff and bathe in the glazed earthenware saucer I put out, on an overturned pot, as a birdbath. They're very serious about it, adjusting, poofing, squatting, and generally making a huge splattery, watery mess. It looks like a water balloon exploded around there when they're done.

It was a restorative day and badly needed, as the 4-hour opening on Sunday, which I really enjoyed!, completely fried me. I come home from those types of events so burnt out, knowing only time and solitude will give me back any modicum of life and energy. Being in my garden is helping! Does this happen to you, or are you energized by crowds?