When will this all end? It seems no one from government officials to health leaders want to even venture a guess. My husband and I are fortunate. We are well and walking and working. Even the weather has graced us with sunshine, unusual for this time of year.
Unusual. That just seems to be a fitting word for me right now. Add to it, sad, crazy, scary, confusing and maddening. While so many suffer around the world, the world keeps turning. Night to day. Winter to Spring or Spring to Winter. Trees bud and leaf, flowers bloom and the birds sing on.
Dirt is a good thing.
With all the hand washing and sterilizing and face masking all around me, I feel the need to get dirty. Like a kid who got scolded for playing ball in her Easter dress, maybe I just have to rebel. I don’t know.
What I do know is dirt makes me feel better. So this week, my husband and I planted our yearly garden a little early. Although the trip to get plants was not the happy experience it usually is, planting was wonderful. There’s nothing like digging a row in good dirt and putting new little spinach, lettuce, zucchini and cucumber plants in a row. The bright tomato cages over the new little plants give me hope.
Even though it’s way to early here to set up the patio, I couldn’t help buying a some new flowers. Planting dahlias in pots and a jasmine inside my Winter screening sculpture puts a smile on my face.
I had a few minor accidents this week injuring my fingers which kept me from my normal clay work routine. By week’s end, I was able to do a bit of painting and hand building, thank goodness. And luckily I had a bisque load ready to fire in the kiln.
Just a few days without my hands in clay really showed me how important this ‘work’ is for my body and mind and spirit. Once again, I see what works for me.