I talk to plants.
I know it's weird, but it doesn't feel weird when I do it.
Last week, Makayla and I planted twenty-five raspberry stalks. Makayla handed me the plants one at a time. As I dug a new home for each of them, I said things like, "What a lovely day to join us here on Picadilly Road. You have nice strong roots. I'm going to make a home for you right here. Settle in. Keep growing. You're going to be so happy with us. Thank you for working hard to make us raspberries. I can't wait to see what you become." You know, positive affirmations and stuff like that.
Makayla smiled at my words. I don't know if it was a my-mom-is-crazy smile or a I-wanted-to-do-that-but-thought-it-would-be-too-weird smile.
When we were finishing up our work, Brooklyn joined us. She heard me talking, "Wow, you are just beautiful. I think you'll be happy right here next to your friends."
"Who are you talking to, Mom?"
"The plants."
Brooklyn's smile resembled Makayla's.
About halfway through the planting, I had a little fight with a barberry bush.
"Stop scratching me! I'm trying to plant these raspberry plants."
The bush grabbed my shirt and gave me another good scratch on my arm.
"Stop that! You don't have to be threatened by these plants. You have plenty of room there. You are very pretty too. I love your fall colors. How was winter for you? Pretty cold, huh. Well, I can see you're sprouting some nice new leaves for spring.” The bush left me alone after I complimented it (and gave it a little trim, hehe).
Last week, Makayla brought me home a friend from work. She spent a good portion of her day labeling potted plants and thought I’d like this little hyacinth.
I love purple flowers. Actually, I think I love all flower colors--maybe not yellow or white so much unless they're paired with a pink or red or purple. Anyway, I placed the pot on our front porch as a cheery welcome (even though most people don't come to our front door).
A few days later, I walked outside to get a closer look at this blooming cherry tree,
the first on our property to bust its buds with vibrant color.
As I turned back to the house, I caught a whiff on the breeze that smelled soooo nice.
I looked down, and there was my little hyacinth.
“Well, look at you! You bloomed! Don't you look lovely. And you smell so nice. Do you like it here on the front step?" I checked its soil. "Hmmm. Looks like you didn't get much of the rain we've had the last few days. Come inside for a bit and I'll give you a drink.” I watered the plant and breathed in its lovely flowery smell once more before placing it back on the porch.
No, it didn't thank me or say anything complimentary back. THAT would be weird.
Maybe this plant talk sounds crazy. I have to admit, I feel a little crazy when I'm doing it, but I also feel my spirits lifting bit by bit with each compliment I give.
This last winter was hard for me. Honestly, this is what it looks like outside right now.
You might not be able to tell, but it's overcast and snowing. In April. I feel like I have been a little cold since October, and the sky seems to be gray more often than sunny, but the green grass and blooming plants give me hope for sweltering summer days. (I do so love to swelter.)
I have always liked plants. It's true, I didn't really talk to them much before now. If talking to plants is a symptoms of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), you can consider me diagnosed. But maybe it can also be a treatment? Recognizing beauty and verbalizing it can't be a bad thing, even if it might seem crazy to bystanders.
Maybe you should try it. Are you tired of winter? Are you feeling hopeless, worn out, tired, overwhelmed, and generally negative about life? What would you say to this sweet bunch of daffodils that popped up by our creek?
Flowers and sunshine are not the only things I have to be excited about.
Many of you already know this, but Ricky is happily preparing to serve a two-year mission for our church.
He will be serving in Bahia Blanca, Argentina, Spanish speaking. He starts training online at home on July 18. After a couple of weeks, he'll fly to Mexico for further training at the Mexico City MTC (Missionary Training Center). By the end of August, he'll be on a plane to Argentina.
We have been listening to a lot of Spanish pop and dance songs and Duolingo dings as Ricky prepares. He is going to learn so much from this experience, and I can't wait for him to tell us all about it.
UPDATE: I wrote this post three hours ago. Guess what it looks like outside now?
I’m now giving my yard (and myself) a pep talk: “I know you don’t want this right now, but you can endure it. I have checked the forecast for you. Next Sunday will be sunny and 75 degrees. You are strong. There are better days ahead.”
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