Grow.

As i cleaned the kitchen last night, i thought about words beginning with G. There's green, like in the green glow right after a rain, or like the vibrant green of the English hillsides by the sea, or like chartreuse, one of the greatest colors, with an awesome name. Vermillion's a nice name, too, though...

There's gay rights, something that's always been extremely important to me. Oppression in any form is abhorant to me anyway, and to make that call based on who someone loves? Makes no sense to me at all. i think love between consenting adults in any form should be celebrated. There's enough hate out there.

There's gossamer. Hard to write a post on that. Really, i just like the word. i also love "sycamore". i love how both roll off the tongue. See how my mind works? i follow a path and then forget where i started. It's no wonder i find it more difficult to write than i used to.

i went through many a word, and then came to guilt. Ah, guilt. The gift that keeps on giving. i intended to write about it, to talk about my own guilt, to ruminate on how best to overcome it, but you know what? i don't want to write about that. To write about it feels as heavy as...well, carrying around guilt. So i won't.

Instead, let's talk about gardens. My dad is a gardener, and passed on the know-how and desire to plant, to care for and to reap the rewards of a yearly garden. i have had a garden every year for the past dozen years or so, except for that year we lived in an apartment. Every year i look forward to selecting which vegetables and flowers to plant. i almost always do a fairly small garden. As the main gardener in my household, it's easier to manage.

Dad almost always comes down to help me set up. It's like a ritual. We plan our space, till, add humus and manure as needed. i absolutely adore the actual planting. i treat the plant with care, even talking to it as i place it in the ground. Don't laugh; plants have an energy, too, and my vibrations can affect it. The best feeling is at the end of the day, when you get to sit back with a cold beer and see all your hard work. i even like getting dirty, makes me feel closer to the earth.

After tending, comes the excitement as things start to grow, then bloom, then bear fruit and thrive. Being able to pick much of that night's dinner is very satisfying, not to mention delicious. There's not any tomato in any grocery store i've found that tastes a bit like a tomato picked fresh out of your own garden and eaten straight away. 

When the thriving takes over, there's canning to be done. i don't do tons of canning, but the onslaught of cucumbers pretty much requires putting up some pickles, and i might do some salsa when the tomatoes are too many to eat fresh and not rot. 

Right now, my yard is overrun with spring perennials. i have never seen so many daffodils in one place, except maybe a public park. My landlord is a super woman, i swear. There's also hyacinths and tulips, and a couple of things i'm unsure of. i don't know yet where the vegetable garden will go; this is our first full summer at this house. Maybe by the storage building, in the side yard? i'll have to get on that, soon. Onion sets are already out. There's work to be done.