You know what makes me happy in the waning days of winter?
Not the smutty magazine kind of dirt.
No. The dirt that gets on your hands and leaves behind dryness and chaffing.
I love the way so much dark and dank can create such a wonderful vibrance out of air, sun, and water.
Makes me want to dance. I actually do clap my hands and exclaim over every new sprout. Mr. Survival chuckles and shakes his head.
He has learned when he sees my gardening tools all piled up on my kitchen table,
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that he should leave me alone.
I play with the dirt, mixing in all the right things for each different plant to grow. It’s so relaxing to me.
Then I bask. I put them in the sun. I giggle over their leaves getting happy as their roots feel new sustenance and allow them to expand. It’s rejuvenating. It’s enlightening.
Puts faith and hope into a whole new perspective as I wait for Spring. Each little thing I do to get ready the future-no matter how close or far away-is like a little prayer that things will turn out in the end. They and I have no idea what’s in store in the intervening months. But we hope and prepare.
I can almost taste the blueberries.
Nothing makes me happier at the end of winter.
Except maybe my kitchen.
Happy St. Patrick’s day! Exult over something new and green for me today!