Puttering in my garden use to be part of my "stay-at-home" routine. Picking and digging was a daily delight, but now subbing has usurped my time; the weeding and other gardening duties have unfortunately been set aside. Consequently, because of neglect, my once therapeutic ritual has loomed into a chore. What needs to be done seems a bit overwhelming, but happily we've had good weather and some special visitors this weekend.
I had some help on Saturday with a fall planting of flowers. It added some color to our front garden that was looking a little drab. I also was a recent recipient of two fun stepping stones that my grandson's, Jeremiah and Joseph, painted at school. Those were gladly placed in strategic honorary spots. The garden still needs more work, but it's looking a lot more perky for the coming Thanksgiving holiday.
Joseph, Sam, and I - digging, planting, and cleaning up.
Another great helper this weekend,
Jeremiah, my grandson.
I'm happy the garden and lawn are looking better, but I'm even more pleased that in working together relationships have grown.
"A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, [how colorful my garden was], or the kind of car I drove . . . . but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child."