Monday, June 02, 2008
This morning, I snuck outside to check on my garden. Now granted, it's small, only two 4x4 foot squares, carefully planted with the square foot garden method. Well, that's only half true. Because there's not a lot of variety because I had a mind to put up veggies for the winter. So in my little garden are tomatoes, peppers and eggplants, then pole beans, lettuce and swiss chard that haven't come up just yet.
We had a rough weekend. Torrents of hard rain fell on two different days, so I was pretty fearful at what I'd find when I went out there this morning. Then I felt it....
Dew on my feet.
I can't remember the last time I went out into the morning early enough to feel the dew on my feet, then those early morning rays of sunshine. When I took the time to listen to the birdsong greeting the day. But I do remember what dew on my feet feels like, when I was a young child, barefoot, playing in the grass, free from adult burdens and fretting over my weight. I remember when life was simpler and the grass felt great.
The garden survived the weather. The eggplant lost a few leaves, but I saw the first signs of purple flowers that will become tasty veggies. The tomatoes are clinging to their stakes and dotted with their own yellow flowers. I even spotted one single white blossom on the red pepper plants. We've survived the rough times. There will be food for the winter.
The question is, can we survive the summer? Our AC went out on us Friday, just in time for the arrival of the heat. (Last weekend it was so cold we were shivering under blankets and running the heater. St. Louis weather is so fickle!) We opened windows, ran a couple of fans and let the attic fan suck the heat out of the upstairs. We were a little hot and sticky at first, but after a while it wasn't so bad.
It reminded me of when I was a kid, where I'd play outside in all hours of the day with the heat, coming in hot and sweaty and probably smelling of wet dog. Sure hands had to be washed before you ate, but otherwise, cleanliness was pushed off until the end of the day. Nothing felt better than sinking your tired body into a tub of water, washing off the dirt and sweat of the day and easing those exhausted muscles. And at night, sleep never felt so good, so sweet, so sound. Ahh, that was bliss.
Childhood isn't the magic elixir, apparently. Because despite my hubby's warnings that it was too hot for a bath, I climbed into one this weekend at the end of the day. Not too hot, not too cold, but it was deliciously amazing. I soaked and soaked, and when I got out, I felt refreshed and relaxed at the same time. Save the aromatherapy and give me a good day's work followed by a bath.
We climbed into bed with only a sheet. Too hot for blankets. We used to sleep like this when we were first married, poor and with only one window unit A/C that happened to be downstairs and not in our room. We'd leave the windows open and let a fan blow over us to cool us off. We were too young and too in love to mind the heat.
So when the cool night breezes zipped in the children's bedrooms last night, I didn't mind. And when I climbed under the sheet with my sweetie, and felt the fan coursing across us, I felt like a newlywed all over again. I'm reminded that happiness is all in our perception. It's not in our weight, our jobs, how our body looks, or how others view us. It's tied up in our perception of the world. It's tied up in simple things like seeing the first garden buds, feeling the dew on our feet, napping in the heat of the day, going for a late afternoon swim, sleeping nude beside a new spouse.
Maybe I won't get the air conditioning fixed after all.