I feel very good about what I've gotten accomplished today. My goal was to get the rest of the fall garden planted and although I did not achieve that, I did good work. And surprisingly, it was not Maurice who followed me out to the garden but Jack. I'm not sure he's ever done that before. I was quite surprised to look up from my hoeing to see him napping there. "Jack!" I said. He startled and raised his head and then a butterfly flew over him and he followed its progress with his eyes but didn't bother to move.
That is Jack. He is such a fine cat. When I wake up in the middle of the night or the early, early morning, he comes right to me and positions his head right under my hand to be petted and of course, in doing that, offers comfort to me. He makes me feel as if I am not alone with those dark-of-the-night thoughts. Of course, he's getting something out of the exchange too, but still- he's a good boy.
So I managed to plant eight collard plants, two rows of arugula, a row of mustard greens, and a row of carrots. I did find the type of carrots I like so much which are the heirloom ones that come in a variety of colors. Here is their row.
He promised me today, though, that he would not care. He would not say a word.
I am not quite sure that either of those things will be true but I am doing my best.
So I still have two types of mesclun to plant, some bibb lettuce, the turnip greens, and...KALE! He went out of his way to go to the totally not hippie-dippy Tallahassee Nurseries and got me a large packet of the mixed variety seeds.
Who is this child? Has he been reading Dickens?
And I also learned that after we left, Maggie said in a big theatrical voice (this is according to her mother), "Why don't you just give me away, Mooooom?"
She was angling to get Jessie to keep her. Which is crazy because she loves her mommy more than anything in this world.
That child. They are all so funny.
I must have liked a post on Facebook about gorillas or chimps or something because suddenly, I am getting dozens of pictures of great apes and honestly, I love them. As a mother, I can so perfectly relate to all of them, from the ones that show a mother gorilla gazing into her infant's eyes with adoration, or kissing the little one on the head, to the ones like this.
"Kids," he's saying. "If they weren't so cute, I'd..."
Oh, the irony is rich.
But one must eat. And it might as well be a pleasure as well as fuel and nutrition.
Or so I tell myself. And in planting a garden, I suppose that I am receiving pleasure from the ground to the tongue because I do so very much love those freshly made rows with their tiny seeds tucked and patted into them, believing with all of my heart that they will swell and grow into foods that will feed us well, both in body and in soul.
Life is strange and it is sometimes beautiful.