Returning

Last spring after we lost our baby (in public I follow the rules and refer to it as a miscarriage, but alone with my own thoughts calling it such feels like a lie), the garden followed suit.  Flowers got buried in thistles.  Weeds covered every garden path.  Many of the seeds I planted never even sprouted.  Somehow a few tomato plants managed to produce tomatoes which we picked and put in the freezer and there they still sit a year later.  Everyday someone had to go through the garden to let the chickens out and I did my best to try and make sure that person wasn't me.  While in the past the garden had been a source of happiness for me, last year it proved to be the opposite, a constant reminder of where I was at the moment- in a pretty low place.

This spring, pregnant again but this time in my second trimester by the time gardening season rolled around, I wanted to get back in there, but I was more than overwhelmed.  It was a mess, last year's weeds dried up and covering everything, new weeds already sprouting.  I mentioned my feelings to a friend who said "all you have to do is get in there and start shoveling, you won't want to leave."  She couldn't have been more right.  Once I started I didn't want to stop... ever.  I weeded and planted, weeded and planted.  I paid the kids 5 cents a thistle for pulling them.  I bet between all of us we pulled over a thousand thistles out of the garden.  And that was just thistles.  By the time we left for our trip I was feeling pretty good about it all.  Three weeks later when we returned half of the garden was once again over run with weeds... save for the huge section my dad had perfectly manicured.  And I mean perfectly.  Had he not been out working on this little surprise I'm not sure I would have had the motivation to get back out there.

Gardening is such a metaphor for everything else isn't it?

I did get back in there.  Despite gophers and groundhogs and rabbits.  Despite planting peas three times and having whole plants disappear overnight.  Despite several times of me stomping back in the house and declaring that's it, I'm through with you garden.  A few days ago Nora brought in two beautiful cucumbers that she planted from her heirloom seeds the Easter Bunny left in her basket.  They were so good I almost cried.  Truly.  There are green beans ready to harvest.  Yesterday I brought in the first load of beautiful tomatoes and today we will make soup.  And the flowers... they might just be my favorite part.  Sometimes the long road to happiness is more satisfying than the short one.  I'm glad I stuck with you garden.