Let me tell you about my love of growing things. I love moss, flowers, weeds, trees, and everything that grows. I've always loved flowers. I can remember watching my mom garden before the divorce. First the crocus, daffodils and tulips, pinks (My favorite scent) and pansies. Then marigold and petunia, clematis, azelias. Summer with the roses and phlox. And the spring we planted a tree in the front yard. We planted pansies all around it.
After the divorce, and after my dad won custody of us when I was 7 years old, those pansies were still growing, barely, but with love and patience, they got strong enough to bloom. I remember tending what was left of the flower beds. And convincing my dad to buy flowers each spring and summer, augmenting with my collections of dug up wild flowers, and occasionally something from a neighbors garden.
When I was 9, we moved to Loveland, and we had a huge yard. I staked out the back corner around a tree stump, and slowly my garden grew.
I tend more towards bulbs, tubers, and rhizomes. I have daffodils, tulips, gladiolas, iris, rose, crocus, hosta, fern, blackberry, narcissus, sedum, hyacinths, minor coreopsis (what I call Buttercp Death), day lilies, naked ladies, columbine, oatgrass, dutchman's breeches, and many more. I also love herbs. Sage, and thyme, lavander, and three mints. Basil, rosemary, chamomile.
I spent my childhood in the creeks and woods around wherever I was, around the trailer park I grew up in, around the HUD house in Lebanon, and all around Loveland. Even in the holler, that's the tail end of a mountain valley, when we visited my great-grandma in Fireco, West Virginia.
I would comb the creeks for pretty stones, lots of quartz. Rearrange the stones, and build waterfalls and pools. Plant wildflowers along the creek and in the woods. Pick bouquets and berries. I've found shells, bones, fossils, arrowheads. I am a force of chaotic good. I set out to do, to fix something; it may not go as I had thought I planned it, but usually ends well.
Nothing especially bad has happened in my life, plenty of bad things. Don't get me wrong. But I'm alive, sound, healthy, and for the most part happy.
I love my kids, and would do anything for them. I love my wonderful boyfriend. I know who my real friends are, and love them. I love my job, my boss and his wife, and the circle of people he's introduced me to. I even love my family, crazy though they are. I love my life right now, I've come so far these last two years I can hardly believe I'm still me. I feel it can only get better.
But alas, whatever time it says, it is actually 1:20 am, and I shall be lucky if my kids sleep until 9. So g'night or g'day as the case should happen to be, and I'll ramble on in Part III.
After the divorce, and after my dad won custody of us when I was 7 years old, those pansies were still growing, barely, but with love and patience, they got strong enough to bloom. I remember tending what was left of the flower beds. And convincing my dad to buy flowers each spring and summer, augmenting with my collections of dug up wild flowers, and occasionally something from a neighbors garden.
When I was 9, we moved to Loveland, and we had a huge yard. I staked out the back corner around a tree stump, and slowly my garden grew.
I tend more towards bulbs, tubers, and rhizomes. I have daffodils, tulips, gladiolas, iris, rose, crocus, hosta, fern, blackberry, narcissus, sedum, hyacinths, minor coreopsis (what I call Buttercp Death), day lilies, naked ladies, columbine, oatgrass, dutchman's breeches, and many more. I also love herbs. Sage, and thyme, lavander, and three mints. Basil, rosemary, chamomile.
I spent my childhood in the creeks and woods around wherever I was, around the trailer park I grew up in, around the HUD house in Lebanon, and all around Loveland. Even in the holler, that's the tail end of a mountain valley, when we visited my great-grandma in Fireco, West Virginia.
I would comb the creeks for pretty stones, lots of quartz. Rearrange the stones, and build waterfalls and pools. Plant wildflowers along the creek and in the woods. Pick bouquets and berries. I've found shells, bones, fossils, arrowheads. I am a force of chaotic good. I set out to do, to fix something; it may not go as I had thought I planned it, but usually ends well.
Nothing especially bad has happened in my life, plenty of bad things. Don't get me wrong. But I'm alive, sound, healthy, and for the most part happy.
I love my kids, and would do anything for them. I love my wonderful boyfriend. I know who my real friends are, and love them. I love my job, my boss and his wife, and the circle of people he's introduced me to. I even love my family, crazy though they are. I love my life right now, I've come so far these last two years I can hardly believe I'm still me. I feel it can only get better.
But alas, whatever time it says, it is actually 1:20 am, and I shall be lucky if my kids sleep until 9. So g'night or g'day as the case should happen to be, and I'll ramble on in Part III.
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