“Everyone talks about Mother’s Day, but nobody does anything about it.”
Wait, that’s not right. Lots of people do lots of stuff for Mother’s Day: they send cards and flowers, they take their mothers, sisters and wives out for brunch or tea, they present the honorees with chocolates and jewelry. Some take a quiet moment to mourn the loss of beloved mothers and grandmothers, grief undimmed by time; some are fortunate to have several generations around them as they celebrate. We all take a moment, at least, and think of Mom.
Being so far from my own mom on this day, there was really only one way to let her know I was thinking about her, that I’m grateful for her love and for all she’s tried to teach me through the years: I had to get dirty. I had to dig up the yard, get into the soil, haul around some rocks, set out some flowers, and get as filthy and sweaty in the process as possible. And when it was all done, I had to have something to pretty to show for my work. Well, Mom, how’d I do?
We’re lackadaisical landscapers, at best, but sometimes the idea for a project takes hold and refuses to let go. We’ve been talking about putting flowerbeds alongside the front walk for quite some time, and this week, Ken threw his metaphorical hat over the wall by digging out the turf (and our earlier rock plantings, which were thoroughly overgrown.) That gave us a good head start, and we needed it: the soil chopping, root pulling, rock hauling & planting, soil watering, more soil fetching, plant buying and setting out took us most of the day.
But whew, isn’t it worth it? We’ve already gotten several compliments from the neighbors and passersby, and we love how it turned out. The beds look like they’ve been there forever–largely because we re-used rocks from an ancient, overgrown planting in the back yard, so they’re handsomely weathered and mossy. They somehow even manage to make the cracked sidewalk pavement look artful.
So thank you, Ramona, for the love and learning, and in case I haven’t said it lately: you are my inspiration.