Day 11: Flowering Joy

Every spring one of the first things I itch to do is plunge my hands into a pile of dirt.  It is one of my favorite yearly activities.  And although the work probably lasts less than a hour, it brings me happiness all summer long.

I call it my dirt therapy.

Now, I am certainly no gardener and haven't a green appendage on my body, but I do like planting flowers in my window boxes.  Lazy gardening, I guess.

I can stand to plant them and other than dead-heading them every few days and ensuring they have water (which hubby helps with) they really are maintenance free.

The rewards pay off about this time of year when everything is in full bloom and my beds are bursting with color.

This is what greets me each day as I enter or leave my house.

They just scream happy hellos to me.

As you can see from the plants below the boxes, my theme of low-maintenance continues.  I literally do nothing to those poor plants, other than maybe remove last year's shells before the new plants bud forth.  

My love of flowers comes from my Grandma McGuffin.  She had beautiful displays that lined her driveway and sidewalk.  So many fond memories I have of us sitting at her kitchen table looking over her daylilies and watching the birds feed.  Like my sweet hubby, Grandpa helped her care for them.  She's been gone several years but her flowers still continue to bloom and every season I go and cut a bunch to enjoy.

If I had the time and ability, I would have a yard full of flowers, each one strategically planted so that when one season ended, a new batch would pop from the earth.  And every few days I'd replace fresh cuts of flowers in vases throughout the house.

Instead, I'll settle for my pretty window boxes and a beautiful fake arrangement that adorns my table, scattered in with the occasional flowers that might find their way home for a vase.

And in case you're thinking of nudging hubby he ought to send me some, don't bother.  He knows I'd rather he stop on the roadside and pluck up something wild than pay for flowers that'll fade in a few days anyway.

My favorites are daffodils and dandelions because that is what the boys picked me when they were little.  What's your favorite flower and why?

Joy comes in the morning.

I woke up a bit aggravated this morning, which is never a very good way to start the day.

Hubby got called out at 3:30 this morning for a wreck that his help was later cancelled.  Normally I can block his pages out.  I'll put myself into almost a coma-like state, many times not even knowing he's left for a run until the next day.  I do this out of necessity, as there's an invisible switch inside of me, that once turned on, I'm wide awake.  No matter the hour or the need for more sleep, it just won't happen. 

Today would be example A.

Tim rolled back in a little after 4:00 and for the next 45 minutes I really tried to go back to sleep.  I tossed.  I turned.  I stretched.  I sighed.  And then, exasperated, I stomped to the living room.

It wasn't Tim's fault.  He didn't set the pager off, but I certainly directed my frustration to him when announcing I was getting up to stay.

Mumbling and grumbling, God nudged me that this might be a good opportunity to read His word. 

And so I did.  And soon, irritation turned to joy.

As the dark faded into light and the world began to stretch awake, I was gifted with the songs of the many birds around our home.  Many of them I know to be Mama birds, protecting the handful of nests I've spied in our yard.  (There's itty babies in the surprise nest from a previous post.  I hope to sneak pics soon!)

I was blessed by the peace that is the calm, quiet start of a new day.

There was the gift of time to prepare the kids a real, not from a box or frozen breakfast.  Hopefully this will warm their bellies and fuel their minds in preparation for the week of testing they have.

And I have the opportunity to apologize to dear hubby by taking him a steamy cup of coffee in a bit and waking him with a gentler mood than I last left him.

Simple, unexpected joys.  Thank you, God.


Oh and there's more...

This was actually yesterday afternoon's gift but I wanted to share.

Though it was misting rain, as it had all weekend, I was able to enjoy getting my hands dirty by planting happy little flowers in my window boxes.  It's what I call dirt therapy.  These are sure to brighten my every day and bring a smile as I come and go this season. 

It is well, it is well, it is well within my soul...