Weed Walk Therapy-Holy Satisfaction!

"I come to the [walkway] alone,
While the dew is still on the roses..."

After the breezes of Springtime breathe out warm rains. While the earth is still wet from that last thunderstorm or the new morning's dew. And certainly before the sun turns its thermostat to 'Broil'. That's the time.  Time for one of the many springtime traditions I perform annually. Time for the one tradition that I own.

But this one is especially beneficial to mind, soul and body...or to be less ethereal about it...my get'er done mentality, Tigger personality and winter-stiff joints.

There are other traditions, but all of them include Senior Chief, which is great as some of those projects would never get done without him. But this one is mine. He hates this kind of work. It is tedious and boring to him. But once I begin, I enjoy it...and in the end, I am immensely satisfied.

It is the job of de-grassing the brick pathway. This is the only pathway in our yard of this sort.  The bricks are old and each one has three holes. And therein lies my task. Tiny seeds that slept through winter now take root in the dirt beneath those holes, and grasses of all sorts begin to grow. From that statement alone, it is obvious that we don't use weed/grass killer. It is also obvious that we took the easy road in creating our pathway by not layering beneath with sand or other material to inhibit grass growth. There are times I think I wish we had, but mostly, I'm okay with the current state of affairs. It's not forever because one day, we'll most likely have to take it all up and re-lay it, but for now, I love the quaint and cottagey look of it. And I like what my annual task does for me and ultimately, our yard.

To further expose our lack of formality around 'Hailey Homestead', and explain the 'why' of what I do, it is important to reveal that we have a dog. We have had dogs for years. They all love us so very much that when we let them out to do their business, they will go off to the side for the heavy business, but for the inferior act of peeing, they squat only about ten feet from the base of our deck. Those in the know, know that this makes for yellow grass and even bald spots. The one thing we do once a year, is scatter a bit of lime over those areas, then water the spots as if we'd planted seed on days when have no grandchildren. The urine acidity is in that way neutralized and roots that have survived then come to life.

But there have been areas of baldness that needed new grass altogether.

Without further adieu, what I do is simply: Weed the Walk

The process is simple, as long as the ground is wet. Grab the grass at the base and pull, tug, wiggle and wrench the grass from each hole.

Oh yes. I do.

Free worms to help my garden...or lawn...grow!

And I save these natural grass plugs to plant in the bald spots, as well as any spots our chickens have over-scratched. I cover the spots with old lattice-work, bits of chicken wire, etc, until they're well-established. It's not pretty-yet, but it keeps all pets at bay. For this reason, I defer my delight in 'pretty' until a bit later. There is an added bonus in the fact that worms have made their homes within the roots. These, I leave alone or remove for the compost and garden.

Of course I realize I could buy grass seed or turf, but this is my contribution to the rebuilding and restoring efforts of spring. I get this 'karma, one-ness' thing going, (I say this with a giggle). But honestly, I do get the feeling that I'm actually working with God in cultivating a sort of rebirth...a healing and refreshment...of His creation. The words of of an old hymn come effortlessly to mind:
"I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses...and He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own. And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

In truth, I am well aware that in performing this small hour or two of work, I am the one getting spiritually, as well as physically,  grounded, healed and refreshed.



Almost done!  Note the pot in the background is
'packed to the gills' with grass plugs. If I don't use them
right away, I'll keep them damp by sprinkling with water
for a few days.

I know I could change it all. Take up the old bricks, put in hole-less ones. Once done, it would be a lot less work...

...and a whole lot less holy satisfaction.


Naps For America

Today, the sun is actually shining and it's supposed to be around sixty degrees by afternoon. I hope so. We had a rough start to the week and I'm hoping the week becomes like the month of March is supposed to be..."in like a lion, out like a lamb."

Yesterday, I was able to go to Parents' Day at my granddaughter's ballet school. She's the youngest child in the youngest group of children. All the other girls had on their little net tutus, but not our little whirlwind. Seems she played with her ballet bag and removed the tutu while at her home, but having had to dress at my home, she was without.

No matter. The room was full of dainty pink tinkerbells and our tink was yet the prettiest little belle out there, of course. It was a delightful half-hour. Classical music was used for the whole of their performance...or, her performance, since our little fairy was the only one we really saw.

My most favorite part was when her instructor had them all standing in a line, facing us. They were supposed to stand tall and at the teacher's cue, gracefully raise and lower their arms. Our graceful lass bent over from the waist, eyes to the floor as if studying an invisible bug. From this position, each time the teacher said 'arms up!", she lifted her arms. (Obedient...sort of.) Everytime she said, "Arms down!", our girl's arms dropped. Loosely dropped. More like, plopped...and then swung lazily, awaiting the next cue to painstakingly rise again. All this as her upside-down ponytail swept the floor.

At one point, she lifted her head and looked at her mom who happened to be sitting right in front of her. Mom motioned her to stand up straight, and whispered, "What's this bending over stuff about?"

Our little sweetie replied, "I'm ti-wed."

Well, then! That I can understand. 'Ti-wed' is common ground.

Sleep is the best counter for tiredness, though a Red Bull can stall the need for a while, but honestly, sleep is such a good thing. I wish more Americans would understand that.

I read recently, and it wasn't the first time I'd seen this, that naps help prolong life...by a good percentage. I love naps. I don't get them like I used to, but I try to reserve Sunday afternoons for a bit of one, or a long one...whatever my body cries for.

Sleep rejuvinates the mind. Heals it, even. People having undergone extreme stress need sleep, as I'm sure you know. But the restoring effects of sleep are not meant for the extremes alone. Every one has problems and stresses and if sleep helps those with the larger ones, what might it do for those of us encountering 'mere' daily stresses? Sleep helps the mind sort out its troubles so it doesn't get confused and cause us to do really stupid things.

That's why all of America needs to be turned on to sleep. Especially anyone in leadership. We are living in a time when the stresses are the highest they've ever been for most people of our country.

I wonder if we could twist some arms, starting at the White House, into daily napping? Think about it...more rest means smarter decisions. Maybe there would be a little less of this attempt to force things that seem right at first glance, but in the long run, could be dangerous. (It's like when bacteria isn't first cleaned from the wound before the band-aid is applied.) But I suppose that's a conversation for another day, and maybe even not by one such as I.  The point is, in order for people to make good, healthy decisions, they need their sleep.

Much of the rest of the world has already figured this out. So many of them have siesta's. We don't want to do that. We're afraid, I guess, that they'll beat us to...something. We are not so great and so big that we can ignore our health. The old adage, 'If you ain't got your health, you ain't got nothin'" holds great, down-to-earth truth. To me, it would be so great if lawmakers would create one really great law...that we all have a daily rest time...or nap time. If they did, you know what I'd say?

"Naps? Oh, no! Please, please, don't make me!" while quickly heading toward my bedroom...before they changed their minds.