
A few years ago Geoff sent me an
article about the actual healing properties found in the garden... in the dirt. I love it when science and my beliefs harmonize.
Maria and I went to the garden center. We invited Max. He was very interested in planting seeds in his garden bed, but that was last week. This week he is not feeling the same way about things,
which is understandable. He is hurting, and sad. He loves Ferris, his furry friend. I am not saying retail therapy is the answer to grief and longing, but I know that time in the light, time away from the usual, daily patterns, and creating an opportunity for getting dirty... those
are a very good answer to sadness.

We came home with new flowers, like pansies and poppies. We bought more soil, and a special dark pencil for our garden markers. We chose seeds for our cold season... peas, cucumber, lettuce and spinach. We walked around admiring the trees and blooms, the prettyness of a winter day in Southern California.
I even managed to deliberately abandon all of the burdensome
supposed to's that plague me when I am aware that I am
not excelling on all fronts feeling like
shiaving cream. While there may be "important" things being neglected, I gotta believe working in the garden is a huge improvement over FB gazing.
We got home and made the able-bodied men unload our wagon. After that I sort of reverted back to feeling the deep funk.
I expect to see him. I look for him and call him... Ferris! Ferris, kitty-kitty! I even open doors, enter quiet rooms and think he could have been locked in here. This may be a place we forgot to look... Fortunately, something compelled me to rise from my descent, and get back outdoors.
Maria and I brought Sanka out of her house and set her in a raised bed. She was almost as melancholy and
homebodied as me... she would not hop out of her box. But when I stuck some celery in the dirt, she could not resist. The rest of her afternoon was spent in happy digging, and contented nibbling.

So often I feel really inadequate, very ineffective.
I do. But reflecting on yesterday, I realize that a lot got done. We planted nasturtiums around the fruit trees. We put in rosemary and geraniums along the driveway. We planted a barrel with peas and violas, then weeded all around the barrels. We brought the ratty-rats out and gave their home a thorough scrubbing, then played with them in the sunlight. We scrubbed the watering and grain feeders for the chicas. We planted a second barrel with the poppies and pansies. And more... including a haircut for Maria.

She has been asking for a haircut,
at home, for some time. I finally got a new pair of shears, and we sat outside, dropping about three-four inches from the bottom. She is very happy with the results.
We were so dirty. Even with her new gloves, Maria managed to get good and grubby. And it felt great. We still have seeds to plant, and the chicas coop could stand to be raked out and freshened. The sky is blue. It is, no doubt, warmer out there than it is in the house... I think we should enjoy another round of therapy. And I plan on dragging Max out there with us, because if he doesn't believe me, I know he will trust the science:
dirt heals.