Gentle

Same day, different subject.

Today has been "personal space day". No, that is not a holiday you've missed on your calendar. No, sad to say, this is not going to give you the day off work this time next year. No, "personal space day" is a day when it seems the entire day is spent teaching the boys to keep their hands to themselves.

See, the personal space in question is not so much their own space, as it is their brother's. They are really "into" each other right now - thrilled to see each other first thing in the morning and always hugging and kissing (much licking involved in that process at this age, as it turns out). The problem begins when the loving gets kind of . . . enthusiastic. And, therefore, somewhat painful. Of course, the one doing the loving doesn't mind this at all, it's the receiver of all this good will that objects so strongly.

And so I say, for the thousandth time today, "Gentle, Sam. Be gentle." "Not so hard, Ben. Be gentle. Nice. You want to be nice." Gentle. Gentle. Gentle. Over and over and over. Until I finally ask myself; when did we stop learning that lesson? When did we stop reminding ourselves to be gentle to one another? If we wouldn't hesitate to teach this lesson, why don't we always practice it?

Just a question from someone trying to be a little more gentle.

Garden Disaster

Back to the good? Back to the land. Let me start by saying, I'm from the city. I'm a transplant and, therefore, have not inherited any farming genes whatsoever. Houseplants have not, in the past, been very good friends with me. And yet? Here I am, planning out my very first vegetable garden. "Let every tree bring forth fruit..." Well, let's hope.

I have a dream of wandering out into the yard, moments before the steaks are the perfect shade of pink on the barbeque, and selecting from the harvest before me, the freshest of salads. I will flavour my meals with herbs from my own garden and my "crop" will be bountiful and healthy. This is my dream.

Unfortunately, here is my reality. A shed currently sits on my perfect garden plot. My sweet husband had already unearthed the entire patio as I was SURE that was the perfect spot for my small garden. THEN, being a novice, I watched the sun. Note to self: watch the sun BEFORE any major undertaking on the part of your husband. NOW, I am sure that the only spot the sun shines throughout the day sits directly below the shed. "Ummm... Terry? About the patio... " Fortunately, he's a pacifist.

Next, while waiting for the removal of the offending shed, I decide to get a start on a few minor crops in containers. I have read extensively on container gardens all Winter and am sure this is the way to go. So I plant. And I dream. And I wake up. And I am horrified.

Some THING has tunnelled through the soil in my large container and has stolen every last seed I'd planted! This is not the dream I dreamed. What to do? Well, one buys enormous amounts of chicken wire and looks for the bright side (after a little fuming, of course). I can assure you this did not happen in the Garden of Eden.

Well, it took a while, but I have found the bright side. It's always there if you look for it. The good thing is that this was discovered on one measly container and not my brand-spanking new garden plot. Now I KNOW I have a wildlife problem and can plan ahead.

Now if only I could get that shed moved . . .