Feeding Body and Soul

(I am now posting all of my work from January on, the timing may be off but the relevancy still resonates...some where)

My house smells like yeast and garlic again. After a long hiatus, which included two very painful deaths in the family, I found my way back to my place of solace and comfort...my kitchen.  It is in this place where I began to feel human again. It was my bread machine that did it. I made a garlic thyme French loaf that permeated every corner of the house. I took the loaf straight out of the machine, cut off the heel, slathered it with softened butter, salt and pepper and ate it hungrily over the kitchen sink. Never before had a meal been so satisfying.
Sleepless nights,  teary-eyed days and the constant parade of well-meaning friends and family took the life out of me and I became a shell of my former self. I did as best as I could to maintain some sense of normality in my family's life. I kept up on my homework, put up our tree, swept the chimney, did the laundry and kept rather busy. I lost fifteen pounds and ran myself ragged. I hid myself in whatever work I could find. I found no pleasure in the things I was doing but with everything else falling apart around me, I had to make something go right...right?
I digress. The point is that tragedy does not last forever. It ends and life goes on. I went back to my kitchen to continue my life. I found that, while nurturing others, I wound up nurturing myself.

**It is with mixed emotion that I report that those 15 pounds have found their way back, the world has not ended and my wardrobe now fits me again.   ;)

The Gardener

Spring has sprung...well, sort of. In an anxious leap to get a head start on beautifying the exterior of my home, I made the fatal mistake of planting before the last threat of frost had passed. A moment of silence for my tomato plants please.
Luckily, my brussels sprouts, berry bushes, azaleas and forsythia made it. I do not have what you would call a green thumb. Mine is more of a drab olive thumb...that lovely murky color reserved for canned peas or overcooked asparagus, not quite the bright green of spring that it should be.
I stumble quite a bit when it comes to gardening. Somehow, no matter how badly I screw it up, how big the disappointment, I still come back every year and try again. Sometimes I learn from my mistakes, sometimes I don't. All part of the learning process, right?
Any-who, my point is this; it's the effort that counts and the payoff (when there is one) is pretty darn great. There is a sincere feeling of pride and accomplishment when I pull up to my house and see that the ivy has finally taken off and made the top corner of my front lawn look amazing, or that the lilac bush that I planted three years ago just might bloom this year. Even better is that first warm tomato of the year that I just can't help but to pull off and pop in my mouth on the spot.
So my darlings, if you're great at gardening, well, goodie for you. For those of you who are not, no matter how bad you may think you are, you will not get better my sitting on that pretty little tushie of yours. Go forth! Make your mistakes...and when you succeed, smile and be glad that, for once, something in your life went exactly as planned.
Now, any suggestions for taming a ridiculously wild rosemary bush?