Weeding Revelations [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“We are exploring together. We are cultivating a garden together, backs to the sun. The question is a hoe in our hands and we are digging beneath the hard and crusty surface to the rich humus of our lives.” ~ Parker J. Palmer, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation

I can’t believe I am writing this. The truth is that I enjoy weeding. While Kerri tends to the herbs on the potting bench, I pull weeds from the cracks between the patio stones. I am sometimes shocked at the satisfaction I feel when the deep root emerges with the stem. “Nice!” I exclaim to myself, dropping it into my plastic bucket.

It has not always been true that I enjoy weeding. Initially, it used to feel like a fool’s errand, an unwinnable war. Each new day would reveal new weeds – more weeds – overtaking my gains from the day before. Redoubling my weed-pulling-efforts seemed to produce the opposite of my intention: more and more weeds.

In retrospect I realize that I came to home ownership later in life and my weed wars were waged when I was relatively new to the job. I wanted to impress my new wife with my manly yard maintenance prowess. I’d mowed thousands of lawns in my life and all of them belonged to other people. This yard, our yard, did not yet feel like mine. I was in denial that I actually had a yard to tend.

I also had an Aussie dog whose sole mission in his young life was to carve multiple velodromes through the grass in his gleeful running of circles. And, as it turns out, Aussie pups, when overheated by running circles, dig deep holes in the earth to reach cool soil that they can lay on it. The backyard destruction was total and provided every gleeful weed known to humanity a perfect opportunity to sprout with unbridled enthusiasm. So they did.

I do not know when the crossover happened. I do not know when I surrendered the fight. I don’t imagine it happened all at once. There was no grand epiphany, no lightning bolt of illumination. Over time the war turned into a game and then the game turned into a meditation. One day, I walked into the backyard to quiet my mind and began to weed – and realized what I was doing. “Good for the heart. Good for the soul.” Brother Patrick’s words of so long ago came to mind. Never in my life did I think I would have a yard. Never in a thousand years did I imagine I’d love to quiet my mind by weeding. My wandering soul giggled at the revelation.

It’s been that way ever since.

“I don’t like weeding as much as you do,” she said, pruning the mint and tending the peppers. The potting bench is her happy place.

“I know,” I said, pulling a clump of crabgrass. It came out, roots and all “Nice,” I said aloud. Our old Aussie left his cool soil perch and came to investigate.

“What?” she asked.

“Our yard,” I said. “It’s so nice.”

PULLING WEEDS on the album RIGHT NOW © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE POTTING BENCH

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Catch-Up [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

It just took me awhile to catch-up. At least that’s what I tell myself. I’ve always had friends and acquaintances who kept herb gardens. They grew herbs in the yard, on roof tops, and in windowsills. They took great delight telling me the rosemary was from their garden or the delicious pesto was made from the basil growing in the pot “just over there.” I was too much a wanderer to commit to anything that needed soil and attention. It was enough for me to rub the leaves between my fingers, appreciate and breathe in the fresh smells of other people’s herbs.

Of course, now, that I have put down roots of my own I am more capable of tending things with roots. I have joined the ranks of herb growers. I have found the deep delight of making a meal delicious with something just clipped from the garden. Tomato soup with basil. Rosemary on potatoes. Chopped parsley with almost anything.

To be honest, Kerri is the primary herb farmer in our house. I carry pots, heft bags of potting soil. I am support services for the herb garden. I double as the substitute plant waterer when she is otherwise engaged. My role is to admire. To appreciate.

It’s a good role because I receive all the benefits of the garden. I even share the credit for the successful harvest. I carry the herb knowledge we’ve acquired. Yet, I rarely worry about the garden. I rarely think about how to improve it. As support services, my role is less about the health and well-being of the herb and more about the health and well-being of the herb farmer. I attend to the tender.

I suppose that is all of our roles in one way or another: attend to the people who attend to us. But, as I wrote at the beginning of this post, I am a slow study. It took me awhile to catch-up. I’m like a good soup. I needed to simmer for a very long time. Oh, yes. I also needed some fresh basil. Grown from the pot just over there. At least, that is what I tell myself.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HERBS

share. like. comment. support. attend to the tender. simmer. we appreciate it.

buymeacoffee is an herb garden where you can attend to the artists who attend to their imperative (and yours) so both can create more beauty and prosper

Grow The Return [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

A lot of love and attention goes into Kerri’s garden. It may be small but it is a mighty source of pleasure and satisfaction.

I’ve found that there is no better antidote for feeling defeated in the world than taking a break and smelling the basil. OMG. The lavender makes me close my eyes and smile. The mint clears my mind. The tomatoes fill us with hope and renewal as we daily cheer them into existence.

What goes around, comes around. So much love and attention goes in to her garden and what comes around, what comes back to us, is nothing less than a miracle. Smells and tastes that affirm how great it is to be alive. Tastes and smells that can turn a dark day into something brilliant.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TOMATOES

smack-dab © 2023 kerrianddavid.com

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