My flower bed was looking a little worse for wear today. The summer heat was not kind to the snapdragons and the petunias. The only thing left of the petunias were some really brown and crispy sticks. The snapdragons were barely hanging on and some were screaming to be put to rest. With my manicured nails and bare hands, I dug them out of the flower bed and my various potted plants. I was about three quarters of the way done with one of the pots when a very large, very black spider appeared crawling out of the very black soil. I’m not sure what kind of spider it was but I quickly convinced myself it was a black widow spider.
It disappeared in a game of chase around the pot so for all I know, every time I feel that itchy sensation it might just be in my bra. It was clearly afraid of me and I was just not wanting it to touch me. I can leave a spider alone as long as it doesn’t hop on me. I see their value in the ecosystem. The one crawling critter I do not know why God created is the flying roach, known “affectionately” in the South as a Palmetto bug. Why? What do they do besides fly down from a door frame when you bring out a flip flop? And, why oh why do they have to crunch like they do when you smoosh them?
After the spider sidetrack, I got the rest of the garden tended and even planted some lettuce. My neighbor is worried that the rabbits will eat the lettuce but I think it is more at risk from these crawling critters out here. I just want to try my hand at lettuce since I was not so successful with tomatoes. The green bell peppers have finally started producing and I can’t wait to get one big enough to slice into a skillet with some butter. The jalapeños have not stopped producing and seem to have found their second wind. I hope I can make some candied jalapeños to give as Christmas gifts, or just to eat with some cream cheese.
There is something special about having my hands in the dirt. The soil really needed my attention and love. It had been neglected for several weeks while I was out of town. And it showed. The weeds had started to creep in and I even had a rather healthy dandelion. It’s not perfect because I did salvage some of the large yellow snapdragons. I just don’t have the heart to get rid of them just yet. They are large, somewhat healthy plants and I just know there is some more life in them. One plant is really thriving in the land of neglect. The other one is hanging on by a thread but still has green leaves. The smaller snapdragons were crispy and tired so they had to go. I got a few cuts on my thumb from pulling the snapdragons out of the ground. But the funny part is how I didn’t seem to mind.
The moist soil started to dry on my hands and made a sort of mask on my fingers. It felt dry and raw. Sometimes in our lives, we have to tend the soil. It’s not always a task we look forward to but definitely one that is needed. Sometimes that process leaves us dry, raw, and open to be easily wounded. I don’t really have the prettiest flower bed right now but it’s a work in progress. The new pansies and lettuce plants are just sort of tucked between the large snapdragons and the peppers. They don’t really look like they fit because the older plants are a lot larger and weather worn. Similarly, sometimes when we tend the soil of our lives, we have to pull things out that don’t belong and fill in with things that maybe don’t seem to fit at the moment. Those things have to grow within us so that the garden of our lives can be full once again.
Tending the soil with water, fertilizer, and pest control can help yield a better crop. My bell pepper plant was the sickliest looking plant with only about one stalk and leaves that had been eaten as some bugs breakfast. It looked like that for the longest time. I thought more than once about tossing it because it just didn’t seem to be growing, despite the water, fertilizer, and pest control. But one day, out of the blue, the plant started growing and looking healthier. It is now almost as tall as the jalapeños, which are about two and a half feet high. Sometimes no matter how much we try to tend the soil of our lives, we don’t have control of when we will yield a successful crop. Sometimes its just not up to us. The timing of the things we want most may not happen at the pace that we think it should. I know it doesn’t for me, but I’m also not a patient person.
The best we can do in a garden, and in life, is to tend the soil the best we know how. We have to be consistent in taking care of what matters most to us or it can wither. We also have to have the faith that some things just aren’t meant to be in our lives no matter how much we tend that soil. And we have to be content with the process, no matter how long it seemingly takes. One day soon, I hope to have a big salad with some green butter-crunch lettuce but if all I have is the red lettuce, it will still have to work. If both the lettuces get ravaged by the rabbits, then the grocery store lettuce will just have to do. We have to adapt sometimes to things that we never thought we’d face. It may not be what we want, and what we want may seem terribly out of reach. If we carefully tend that soil, regardless of what happens, we’ve done our part. That’s when we have to step back and let the growth, whatever it is, happen.
Messpot Diaries 