I have been home for over one week - that is the longest I have been home at one time in almost two months. Myah (nine year old granddaughter) and I have spent the morning in the dirt. The front flower bed that was neglected and looking very sad is cleaned up, the perennials are planted. The tomato and basil plants are in their pots and I am bone tired. Myah was a great help, and provided the "salt of the earth" reminders about why this is so good to do - the digging in the dirt. She said after about 30 minutes, gardening makes me feel so relaxed, and we talked about remembering this when we are harried, or crabby, or just out of sorts -- maybe some garden therapy would be a great way to feel better. All the while we were cutting back dead heads, making the leaf and debris pile larger, trimming and cutting back. It was perfect. Now, as I type, Myah is singing in the shower, enjoying her time with Gramma and just plain happy. "Tis a gift to be simple, tis a gift to free, tis a gift to come round where you ought to be."
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