my monkied brain (katekat1010) wrote,
my monkied brain
katekat1010

got my fingers dirty this weekend

Yeah, I kind of wish it was in a naughty way too, but instead, it was all about dirt. Real dirt. The kind that squishes through your toes when it's wet, and smells great when it's tossed. Dark, packed tight, almost clay in consistency. That's what I started my garden in this weekend.

Two garden stores yielded up their contents to us, with pony-tailed women as guides to fragrant and fuzzy plants. And we've decided that we're planting an herb garden. No oddly bushy plants for us, unless they have sweet smelling leaves. We filled the back seat with pairs of lemon balm and rosemary, oregano and chamomile. And stacked the trunk high with fertilizer.

We walked it all into our back yard, and I realized for the first time the strange immensity of space. It's only a 36 x 25 foot yard, but when you're working with a small shovel and your bare feet, even a 4 x 4 plot is a little daunting. But my toes got dirty, my knees got dirty, my hands sorted weeds from soil and spaded little places for my babies to grow. And now, in one little corner of our yard, there are a couple of rows, and it looks like it could be a garden. It's weeded and turned, fertilized and planted.

Not everything's in the ground though. The light gave out on me. I'll have to wait till the sun rises tomorrow.
Tags: journal entries
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