There are exactly as many special occasions in life as we choose to celebrate.
Because the sun was warm and beautiful and shinning, and because my "to-do" list lacked "to-dos" (huge lie), and because I had a small bag of potting soil, and-- oh yea-- because I had these tiny pots stashed in the top of my closet....
...I decided to plant.
And then, after filling three little pots with dirt and chamomile and sage and tomato seeds, I took a gander around the lawn, evaluating the state of blooming affairs.
Much to my delight, the $0.50 peony bulbs I purchased last summer on clearance sale in a tattered, falling apart bag, have emerged, stretching towards the sky and, dare I say, even boasting one small magenta bud.
I never would have thought.
See the little cluster of yellowish ground cover?
I just saved myself a good $20 at the greenhouse.
Why, you ask? Well, wouldn't you know that this stuff goes for about $3.75 per four inch pot. Insane.
Ever the frugal girl, you'll never believe what I did. No, I didn't steal or pinch off a clipping. Shame on you for thinking such a thing. (tisk-tisk and batting eyelashes)
Rather, last fall as I emptied my pots and cleaned the patio for the long winter stretch, I pulled a clump of this Creeping Jenny out of a flowerpot and threw it to the ground. Yep. That's it. I swear.
Now, I can spend those pennies on something more fun this year- perhaps some eggplant seeds? Or another Stevia plant?
Time will tell.
Oh, the lavender survived! It survived!
Again, more garden amazement. This little plant friend proves, yet again, that passed-over greenhouse garbage shouldn't be ignored.
Last year, after paying less that $1 for this sweet herb, I planted it, watered it, and cared for it, all the while watching as nothing really happened. Then, during my fall clean-up, I cut it back, saying a little wish for it and hoping that it would survive the winter.
"The very nature of Joy makes nonsense of our common distinction between having and wanting."
The blankets just emerged from the dryer and Charlie has completely buried herself, allowing only the tops of her ears to poke through. Precious critter, she loves a warm pile of handmade afghans and blankies, and I can't blame her a teeny-tiny little bit.
It's been one of those weekends- a slipper wearing, pony-tail sporting, get things accomplished type of weekend. With the weather taking a cold turn and the skies a messy soup of gray, gray-er, and black, I've had motivation to stay put, enjoy my surrounding, spend time with my little family, and tackle a few homemaker-ish types of responsibilities.
It was one of those days where I found myself in love with this little house and this little life. I enjoyed the squeak of the kitchen door as I made trip after trip up and down the basement steps with basket upon basket of laundry. I found some kind of serenity looking out the kitchen window and watching the yellow finches stop for a snack at the feeder. I found so much happiness in ironing and laundry and making our dinner (now cooking in the crock-pot).
With every sock that was rolled, every precisely folded towel, and each carefully ironed button-down shirt I felt grateful. And I mean really, really grateful.
It's kind of strange, really. I look around this life and I am ever so satisfied.
You should probably know that for quite a long time I've wanted to add another waggly tail to this abode. I wanted another fur-friend to love and spoil and care for. Well, I'd finally managed to convince Chad-o that another dog was a great, marvelous, if not all around fantastic idea. And so it was, this spring another little puppy was to grace the residence of 403.
But, remember my belief in signs? Remember how they visit me in the most unusual of times?
We were hiking.
We were having ourselves the most wonderful of afternoons, having just had a delicious lunch at a quaint little cafe. To be honest, I wasn't even thinking about puppies or dogs or even my little Charlie T. I was engrossed in the moment, plodding along a river, carefully watching my step and working to avoid soggy feet.
And then, from between the rays of a shinning sun and the breeze of a gentle wind, I heard it. I heard the familiar whisper and I knew.
That was that. The decision was made. Not the answer and decision I really wanted, but the best, most responsible one, for now.
It's so very interesting how things come about. I'm always fascinated at how answers and solutions so clearly present themselves.
As difficult as it is to place our "wants" to the side, it is most important and imperative that we do what is truly best- best for us and our current situations.
Finding contentment in such a crazy, fast-paced, instant-gratification society is a gift.
The here and now is good. Really good. Beyond good.
I understand the message. I really tried to take all I could from that gentle whisper.
I am so grateful. I am so blessed. There is nothing more that I need.
This life that I have with the people I am surrounded by is enough.