Boundaries, Changes, Musings
Spring is busily making itself felt here; warm days, trees beginning to leaf out, flowers unfurling their petals.
Even the fish look eager:
They’ll be making themselves to home soon at the local lake, as we let the pond go; it’s more time-consuming than one would have thought and way more expensive than I think most people are aware of and five years into it, I’m tired of the time and the expense. And then there’s the added problem of what to do with fish that multiply. Will I miss them? I think a bit, but the cost in time and money are greater than the payoff.
Getting ready for the growing season is partly establishing the new boundaries: boundaries for what will grow where, how much will be given over to flowers, what time commitment we want to make. We do this every year, evaluating what changes the previous year has made to the landscape and what our time commitments are at the present time. We used to have a large vegetable garden, but are now down to our permanent asparagus bed; we used to let the entire front and almost all the back go to flowers, but this year, Rick is insisting on keeping the front mowed down. We’ll see.
As my work has begun to take up more and more space in my life, it’s become apparent that other boundaries need to be drawn so that I am not constantly responding to students around the clock, and so I’m working on streamlining that. Hah, I’ll need good luck with that, but I think part of that is simply not being constantly wired into the computer and at the constant beck and call of email. Working in my garden will help that.
The garden changes day by day, and although it’s often less noticeable, our lives change as well, each day. We need to be able to stop and assess these changes and redraw boundary lines, make sure that issues are dealt with as they arise, that we alter our course as needed, that we stop to eat the fresh asparagus newly sprouted from the ground. Do you know, I missed the asparagus last year, was too “busy” to get out there first thing in the morning and enjoy a breakfast of freshly snapped off asparagus shoots? How sad is that? Not so this year.
Hmm, excuse me while I go crunch some now.