I spent the weekend hunched over the gravel-filled flower beds in my yard. The decades-old river rock lost its luster years ago. Now, weeds and stumps jut out from the jagged dirt like crooked talismen. I am their undertaker as I plunder their roots and rip them from the earth. Someone thought the rocks pretty once, but time has stolen anything that ever resembled beauty. So I take my hoe, and I rake out the brambles and misshapen pieces, and I throw them into an old bucket. Then I stuff lawn waste bags with mangled stems and roots, and when I’m feeling frisky, I burn the rest. And when my body won’t cooperate any longer, I crawl into a hot bath and soak my aching muscles in magnesium-laden water. And I sigh.
It’s such a slow process. I have spent the better course of a year trying to find the earth beneath these awful rocks. I’ve lost track of the weekends–the sweaty mosquito-laden skin–and the unrelenting sun. And there are still truckloads of rocks to remove. I sometimes wonder if I was mad to attempt such an arduous project by myself, but I had a vision in my mind of my house not looking like the house even a ghost wouldn’t want to inhabit. I have a vision of roses and butterflies, and hop-toads perched beneath broad leafed ferns. And so I press forward. Because it’s not the first time I’ve looked at an impossible project and decided to chip away at it until my dream becomes a reality.
I did my first 3.5 minute plank last week. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think my body was capable of a 2 minute plank, much less more than 3. But I hit the 3 minute mark and I just held steady. I held until I couldn’t hold any longer. I tapped the stop button on my stopwatch and marveled over the mental toughness mingled with sweat on my brow. Because I’m just Margaret. I’m not super Sporty Spice. I don’t look great in a bikini. And I’m generally pretty humble about my accomplishments. Maybe it’s because I’ll never forget huffing and puffing up the hills of Ferguson, Missouri and feeling like my legs were going to give out beneath me. At one time I couldn’t imagine not consuming fast food. Shoot, I met my husband at Dairy Queen and I got my current job through a woman I met at Taco Bell. I remember the first time I attempted a plank and thought my back was going to break. I honestly didn’t know how horses do it. But here I am a few short years later and I’m still pushing past my limits. Not because I’m trying to make the cover of a magazine, but because I enjoy being strong. I spent my whole life being physically weak and dreaming that I could run. Strength should never be confused with physical perfection.
Still, some projects are just not fun. Ask the Roto Rooter man how much he enjoys his job as he snakes out your sewer drain after it backs up into your basement. But once that drain is clear, Hallelujah! But if you looked at the drain and figured getting it unclogged was impossible and decided to just let your sewer fill up your basement, well, that seems stupid. Any sane person knows you don’t want to live in a house where the sewer has backed up. For obvious reasons, if left unchecked, the house would be condemned. Funny how we can’t condemn and move out of our bodies when they become uninhabitable.
My home will never be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens and I’m okay with that. I don’t need fame. I don’t even need to win a “Best in the Neighborhood” award. I just want flowers and bees and caterpillar-strewn parsley. And so I’m working in that direction–one ugly rock at a time. It’s the same way I lost the weight…one dreadful pound at a time. And one day I plan to sit back on my wooden rocking chair(that I haven’t purchased yet) and smile into the breeze as I watch the Swallowtail butterflies flit from flower to flower. That’s what I think about while I’m plucking rocks and roots from the dirt. So when my neighbors see me smiling and waving, it’s not really a mystery. If they ask me I’ll simply tell them… I am already reaping the harvest of joy–even as I’m planting the seeds. Because dreams are lovely and purposeful and fun. And who really knows what tomorrow will bring? That, my friends, is why I use two buckets; one for the ugly rocks and one for the pretty rocks. Because somewhere in my re-landscaped yard there will be a space where I can reflect on where I once was so that I can celebrate where I ended up.
I remember when that was me. First came the trays of zoysia plugs to have a green lawn to cover the useless clay. We planted trees and added to them over the years until they are now the beautiful shade that makes my yard so pleasant no matter the amount of sun. At the height of my gardening we had 15 flower beds which over the years included vegetables. I remember the year of bushels of cucumber that we gave away so many of. I always loved the fresh tomatoes and canned and froze them for Winter consumption. While I started with iris beds and a few plots of sedum I had a good friend who had gardened for years who told me kindly that it was sort of a “Johnny one note”. That’s when I began adding variety. There are still probably over a hundred kinds of flowers, hostas, shrubs and ground covers. This is my favorite time of year. I love watching everything come up year after year. Right now there are burgeoning peonies, iris, roses, bleeding heart, lilies, and so many more. The Virginia bluebells have already come and gone but now the spiderwort is coming out along with the siberian iris. We love having trees that are native to Missouri. Sycamore, ash, red maple, dogwood, redbud, tulip, Japanese maples and mimosa. The lilacs were spectacular this year and I got to sit under their nodding blooms on my deck. There are clematis climbing everywhere…on the deck, on various trellises around the yard and coming up as voluteers that get removed or passed on to other garden lovers. So many flowers that I have had over the years have died out or been removed as we simplified the yard to be more manageable. There is one oriental poppy left and I still miss the various viines we had over the Summers to provide color and interest. We tried hyacinth bean vine, mina lobata, moon flower, blue morning glories….
Sigh. I miss digging in the dirt. It was “clean” dirt. Even the worms were buddies. Toads , snakes and tree frogs always let me know it was a healthy yard. When we added the water garden we really got wildlife. I am always seeing new examples of birds and critters. I think the most unusual was the pair of minks that enjoyed my little fish pond (as well as eating the fish) until we caught and removed them. This week I saw every detail of the feathers on the Peregrine falcon in my dogwood tree. Wow!
All the work is worth it. We have lived here for 30 years this year. When I think of the desolate, deathly clay we started with and see the Eden that exists now I don’t regret one drop of sweat or burning, trembling muscle. You go girl!!! Love, Mom