Dearest,
Yesterday, I visited the magnificent nursery at a lavender farm with our daughter to seek out some plants for her garden. They offered a mind-boggling variety of herbs and kitchen garden starts, the best I've seen anywhere, as well as a multitude of other unusual plants, edible and not, for the beautification of tables and homes. One of my favorite things about this farm's nursery was the opportunity to meander through the owners' established gardens, with water features and benches and expert arrangements of mature plants. What fodder for the imagination!
My favorite spot, which we walked through on our way out, was their herb garden. I've never seen such a lovely one, with meandering paths and huge plants (who knew they got that big?!) and delightful fragrances and happy bees. It was so peaceful, exactly what I had in mind when I planted our sorely-neglected patch in the back of the property.
Inspired, I spent a good part of the afternoon pruning and trimming the overgrown plants and shrubs -- now trees, let's face it -- in our sad, abandoned garden. I haven't finished and, of course, the process must be ongoing. But there are three large piles of debris to discard, bit by bit, in the solitary "green" bin that's picked up every other week. There will be more, much more.
In spite of the sore muscles today -- which, can I just say, feel much better than sore joints -- it was refreshing and rejuvenating. It was also much easier emotionally than sorting through and packing up your things, your numerous (and never-ending) collections, your...garage. Goodness, the garage! Don't get me started.
Anyway, spring has sprung and, with it, a tiny, tiny flicker of life. A glowing ember of hope. A small-but-growing sense of the presence of God and His purpose for my life now, in the land of the living. I may, in fact, survive.
Love you forever,
Me
