Flowers and Chocolate

I spent most of my weekend digging up dirt.  What a wonderfully cathartic exercise for both the mind and body.  Sitting in the damp yard, pulling weeds from my garden is nearly as restful as my Pilate's class.  I breathe in through my nose and out of my mouth, a ritual of calm and place, a habit of peace and purpose.  My hands, protected by my gloves, scrape the dirt, cradle the bulbs, and toss the weeds.  I love to see the darkness of the dark once uncovered.  I only wish it could stay so raw, so cool, so moist.  I work steadily, for I know too soon someone will need me more than I need this time of self indulgence.  Gardening is something that I have fallen for, that and cooking.  I feel allowed to pursue my creative side while still having the opportunity to spoil the ones I love with my end result.  

As we have our first official spring rain - heavy drops of moisture, air is calm, sun still trying to shine, birds and creatures making their chirps and rattles - my yard is surrounded in daffodils 

and tulips.  

Green is sprouting

 up in beds, bushes, and trees.  The hydrangea, who shall be named Vivian, rescued from certain death (a garbage pile), fits nicely on the corner of my garage.  I cannot wait to see what she has in store for me, as I did save her life.  I have a bouquet of my first cuttings in the kitchen and my helper, Avery, was paid with a bedside glassful of her own.  While the girls napped, I filled our kitchen with smells of dark chocolate and coffee (I like to spoil their dad as well). 

 

And this, flowers and chocolate, is my offering today.