Paper Plow

Today I have been churning through my papers on my desk. Human shredder. I hate the fact that papers are always there. I have files for everything. I have been packing into a new desk and a couple of new bookshelves with doors that close. But the everpresent pile on top of the desk has not gone away. However, I have been determined to clear the urgent ones, leaving the less urgent, easier ones to do yet. Made a few newly needed files and printed labels for a few old ones. It feels really good to get these things done, but what I really need is new habits so as to prevent the pile from growing big. Flylady knows how to do this. She says I don't have to catch up just jump in where she is, OK? (see flylady.net) She is a wonderful brainwasher. I made the important calls, got answers to my questions, did what I could on line.

And we worked in the yard this perfect day. I forgot to take my timer so I looked at my watch and worked for an hour. The new little garden wagon, a mother's day gift from someone who is not my son... I love it. It's going to be very useful. I also needed the wheelbarrow for the shovel and a huge bag of rich black potting soil. Four holes dug next to the wooden edging between the grass and the mulched area. The rail road ties that edge the lawn are starting to rot, but they will be hidden by giant hostas I just put there, and I won't have to replace the wood. I took the hostas from the back yard. One azalea got moved. These projects are actually on my to do list.

One of my slaves did the mowing and some of the trimming. Oops, I mean one of my children. But she is my slave until she gets a job.

The trees are full of big leaves now, heavy and rich, it's green everywhere. The wind is moving the branches around. It's very sensuous actually, the way the wind is today. The temperature is perfect. I had to take an allergy pill, but it's worth it. The adding of plants to the front yard is killing 2 birds with one stone, because I want to clear out the little garden in the back and just have grass there, so I am taking the hostas and azaleas from that spot. Bless the person who planted all the bushes in my back yard, so that I don't have to go buy them at the nursery. I only have to dig them up and move them.

The best part is watering. Tamp down the fresh dirt, step on it, dance around it. Then water it. Feels good to stand up straight. Look around and up at the summer clouds. Watch the soil get even darker. I love the way black soil or mulch sets off the colors of the flowers and plants.

It is like a reward to me for having done my paper plowing, to get to work in the dirt. I talked to the azalea while I was uprooting it. I told it I know this was traumatizing it, but that I thought it would like it's new home next to the other azaleas in front and that the potting soil would feed it. I laugh that I'm talking to the plant. I thought about the Father pruning the vine. He probably doesn't enjoy seeing us with our roots all disturbed, he knows we feel it when he prunes our branches. But He can see beyond our present trauma.