9. I love to pull weeds, though I never do so these days. For me, there is something therapeutic about sitting in the grass, bending to look closely at all the roots and stems, putting my fingers into the dirt and pulling the weeds. I move very slowly, taking the time to find every weed, however small, and pull it up with all of its roots. As I work, my mind is free to think. Not only does the simple task of weeding not distract my mind, it actually seems to keep my senses occupied so that I'm not harassed by every random signal that comes my way. As I sit with the creepies and the crawlies, the little spiders and gnats and bugs and ants and moths and worms that crawl under and over and around me, I can just be an animal, doing what I have to do to survive.
Weeding for me is not a task, it's recreation. I never do it because there just isn't time to relax. There's too much to do all the time. For the last couple of years, my sensitive skin has kept me away from gardening. We pay someone to take care of the yard. I haven't seen Chuck, the Gnome that lives in my yard, in months. It's okay, though. He doesn't seem to notice the passage of time so much. Whenever I see him, we have the same easy rapport that we've always had. Sometime over the summer, on a cool morning, I'm going to spend a couple of hours in the yard. I think that would be good for me.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
