Plants & People

no sit today.

several days of promised rain have come and gone, with none falling. but watering the garden is such a pleasure, the intimate daily moment of visiting each little bed, each community.

gardening day. apple blossoms are appearing. our little plum saplings, planted last year, are all in blossom except the american variety, the cornerstone of the whole grove; perhaps we'll have to wait another year for our first harvest. re-planted larkspur today, none having come up from the planting a couple of weeks ago - a miscommunication of watering necessities while i was away. sleepy little son in his wrap fussed as i bent down to mark the line, lay the seeds in, and cover them over, but was content when i stood up.

husband planted potatoes in the bags today; three bags, four potato seeds per bag. each potato seed can give up to 20 potatoes, so that's a potential harvest of 240 potatoes to feed us and family this coming winter.

visited a friend today. harvested creeping phlox he didn't want, nestled it into our compost pile for now. lovely pink color, lovely scent. a handful of lily-of-the-valley came along with it, an old friend.

while we gardened, chatted, played a board game, people in myanmar and china starved, struggled with untreated injuries, infection, their hearts broken from losing their loves, their families, their communities.

as i wrote this, my little son cried out in his sleep, a wail from deep within that comes to him sometimes in his sleep, never awake. i talked to him, nursed him, and he was soothed. i understand these sleeping cries to be mourning for the life he left before he came to us. this heartache, here in my house, in my life, is one i can help to mend. what do we do for the people on the other side of the world? donate money for supplies is all i come up with.