Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down,
to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes.
Our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.
Low gray clouds hang like
wet sheets pinned to a clothes line
in the western sky.
Why, yes, I do love garden stores and nurseries. While I resist buying – the rule is I must know where the item will be planted before purchasing, and better to have the ground prepared before the purchase – I always learn something new. I can no longer call my favorite uncle on the phone to get the answers to my plant questions, so I resort to garden stores, where you can look at the little tags for identification. You can look at pictures on the internet but identification is somewhat unreliable. My uncle, since gone to be with the Great Gardener of the Universe (what grows there? Star flowers, angel wing begonias, blue bells, lilies, new souls, old souls?), could tell me the name of a plant with my silliest description, and he was entirely accurate. You didn’t dare drive anywhere with him at the wheel, however, as he was always pointing out plants and naming them in an “oh, look at that!” manner, and with each point of the finger the steering wheel would swerve the car a bit, elevating the adrenaline. Still, I miss him immensely; he taught me so much, gave me my first copy of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, and shared many books of haiku. In memoriam: Albert Wesley Bradford; may you rest in peace; I love you forever.
At my local garden store, I was able to determine the name of the vaguely chive like plant I described last week. It is commonly called sea thrift, thrift, or sea pink, from the family Armeria maritima. As a perennial it is a cost effective little plant as it comes back every year, and can survive pretty cold winters. Sea thrift can also grow in sandy, salty, or dry conditions, making it a good plant for busy or lazy gardeners who might not have the best soil, or for gardeners who live at the beach or around salt marshes.
Flower Watch – blooming attractions in my neighborhood this week: white lilacs; violas; purple lilacs; violets; lavender lilacs; white dogwood; lilac lilacs; pink dogwood (one of uncle’s favorites); dark purple lilacs; sweet allysum; a pink lacy version of coral bells; white rhododendrons; lilacs; astilbes; lilacs; bridal veil; lilacs, lilacs, lilacs, the dark purple is my favorite. My old daddy, who is also with the Great Gardener of the Universe these days, always said when the lilacs bloom it is time to plant your garden; he would sow radish, beet, and lettuce seeds, and spring onion sets. If you plant when the lilacs bloom you must have the soil ready. I’m way behind. No wonder my gardening attempts are feeble compared to his, which fed his family of six. I usually get a handful or two of lettuce before it bolts.
This week I have been grateful for:
- The fresh smell of a damp early morning: rain, grass, trees, soil.
- Strawberry blossoms.
- Sun. Rain. Clouds. Fresh smelling air after a nice clean rain.
- Finding an old friend on Facebook.
- Finding a new summery t-shirt dress for hanging around the house in, in my size, at a reasonable price, at a local store, where I also saw the old friend to friend on Facebook. It’s almost nice enough to wear to work, but being white it will last only two or three wearings before it’s unpresentable. I’m such a messy girl.
- Lilacs. Lilacs. Lilacs.
- The Great Gardener of the Universe and the souls who are with The Gardener.
- Spending time with my 20 year old son, really listening to his opinions and hearing him “really hear” the comments I was making back. An excellent interchange not just commandments.
- The little pot of organic cilantro I bought is still surviving.
- Discovering shallots.
- Feeling a little better after a tough physical week of illness flare-up and emotional distress.
Namaste. Peace. Blessings.