Life Garden

Yesterday began as a lovely Sunday morning. I had thought I would commune with nature and plant the flowers that I had bought well over three weeks before that still remained in their plastic quad packs. Gorgeous day… I changed into my red sweats and ugly white tee shirt and sat on the patio for a time; drank a little coffee; contemplated solitary patio life; contemplated what it would be like to have the life of a dog and only run and chase balls for a living. Ahhhh the life of Magdalena.

I started planting the flowers that I had ignored for a few weeks, I felt guilty as I had to throw away several of them that had been neglected beyond repair. I am not exactly sure whether they were wholly and fully neglected, or whether or not Scooter peed on them. It could be either… just sayin’. I got all the flower pots planted, weeded the side planter, swept and washed the patio down.

There is something about planting my garden that is fulfilling to me. I don’t know whether it is the feeling that I am starting something fresh and new, or whether I like to nurture and watch it grow, or whether I am anxious for tomatoes. I just know that year after year I plant my garden with great anticipation.

This year I decided that I really should plant my life garden. I want to do it with the same level of anticipation, excitement, and hope with which I plant my petunias, tomatoes, peppers, and marigolds. I am tired of solitary patio living. I want to travel to a romantic destination with….. someone. I want there to be a PaPa in the Grandma realm. I guess that as much as I am really good at making marinara, gazpacho and salsa from my garden, I am less successful in the cultivation process of my life garden. I need to work on that.

Today Was a Good Day

I believe that there are some days that are easier to get through than others. I also believe you have to count your blessings when/if you can. I further believe that good days are measured relative to the person who is measuring. This is me today.



I am thinking that today was a good day.

Random Facts and Simple Items of Interest

• The garden is not growing.


• I love my iPod Touch.


• Brandon's head smells yummy.


• Maggie is pouty.


• I want to be someone’s priority.


• It is nice to have a house full of people.


• I miss my Grandma.


• Kayla twitches her nose when she smiles big.


• I need new carpet.


• I love my feet right after a pedicure with Sonny.


• In September, I will be swimming in the ocean in a place I never have before.


• The planter in the front of the house is planted with red and white petunias.


• I love Maycie’s song “We are in a washing a-chine, a washing a-chine”


• Coffee is a gift from God.


• Three dogs make a lot more dog poop than two.


• I want a love in my life that completes it.


• I love Words with Friends (carrillosun if anyone is interested)


• I love my Daddy, and I will always be his Cinderella.

Just sayin’

In a New York Minute Everything Can Change

The lyrics from the Eagle’s song New York Minute, hit home this past week. They read:

And in these days
When darkness falls early
And people rush home
To the ones they love
You better take a fool's advice
And take care of your own
One day they're here;
Next day they're gone

Literally, in a New York minute everything can change and does. As those words floated through my head along with the lyrics Don Henley hauntingly sings, my mind drifted to days and times when he was still here.

I remembered leaving work, going to my car and having it all decorated, with love notes he left all over it. I thought about the bill that he must have run up at Peg’s Flower Shop in Sunland for sending me flowers every 9th of the month. I remembered going to the Eagles concert and racing Lee Majors. I remembered him sneaking up behind me at Hober’s Pharmacy and snuggling my neck with a stuffed animal, and later finding that same stuffed animal in my car with a note that said “Please take me home and love me” more referring to him than the stuffed animal. I remembered our honeymoon, and the flowers he had delivered the next day to MRS. Cindie Lund. Then I remembered the sign he painted “It’s a Girl”. And then ditto when the next one came. I remembered him in the brown sweater, sleeves pushed up, his long legs, and his curly long hair. I remembered that man, not the one he became. I mourned him. I wept for him. I loved him.