I had to drag my self off the couch, away from the computer, out into the gray. I didn’t want to go out, but I knew the garlic needed to be planted.
For years, I’ve said I should grow garlic but come October or November, I’m not programmed to plant. I’m programmed to harvest and preserve. I’m pushing myself to get the garden cleaned up before it gets too cold. I’m ready to nestle inside with something in the oven to warm the house and meet my need for comfort food.
But this past weekend, I pushed myself out into the mess of weeds and the fallen leaves choking the bed where I planted late lettuce.
I looked at the carrots ready to be pulled and the potatoes ready to be dug. I noticed the three green pumpkins on wilted vines, dry grass, and wilted weeds, and the cosmos and zinnias that had finally succumbed to the cold.
“Garlic,” I reminded myself, and I started to dig.
I loosened the soil and dug weeds just where I needed to. I rolled the creaky old wheelbarrow over to the open face of the compost pile and pushed aside the mulched leaves my husband has started to pile there.
I added the compost to my beds, pressed the paper sheathed garlic into the soft, cold ground. I didn’t worry about watering. The weather would do it for me.
I worked until my glasses started getting to spotted, and I found myself smiling and relaxed and invigorated. Instead of a chore, I was doing what I loved. I was outside, moving my body, gettin my hands dirty. I starting something new during a time of wrap up, getting ready for winter and getting ready for spring.
I should get out there today. It’s not even raining.
Write with Me Wednesday
What makes smile, even unexpectedly? Write about something you love doing even though it’s uncomfortable or messy or hard or mundane. You might start with
What do you love doing once you get yourself get started?