|Growing plants from seed, and my husband's |
All of that being said, the day had come for us to get rid of the old and start with the new. And since it was a beautiful day, I figured I'd join the hubs outside with this dream project. Our sweet doll baby slept most of the time in his stroller while we worked the land with the help of a hefty blue tiller. As I watched my husband break up that soil, and as I took in the aroma of fresh dirt (I really love that smell, by the way), it took me back. I got to thinking about my heritage and how my Big Pa always kept a garden, year-round. And how his big hands were always callused. I thought about how we were made to "work the land." And that it was God's blessing to us. I thought about what good exercise it was turning the soil and picking weeds and hoeing the ground. And how it didn't seem like exercise at all, because it was all with a purpose. I felt proud to have muddy feet and muddy hands. I could almost taste my Mema's fresh pepper cream corn. (Mema's main ingredient in everything she cooks is pepper; she even puts pepper in her mac and cheese!) ...And then I thought of how some might think we are hippies, when really what we are is southern.
For hundreds of years, our families have gotten outside and enjoyed nature. They've worked to eat, not just to stay fit. They raised cattle, pigs, and chickens. And they learned, at an early age, the sense of good, hard work. Something I feel we, as southerners, as Americans, are losing. We want it here and now. And I have to admit, when Google Chrome doesn't load instantly my heart seems to skip a beat with impatience. But there's just something about gardening that brings it all back to the basics of life... back to the good ole days when hard work paid off.
I hope to bring that back, or rather join my husband in bringing that back to my family. I want our son to know the value of hard work and that vegetables don't come from the freezer, or from the produce section of the grocery store, but from the land and from hard work.
And maybe, just maybe as these fragile little plants reach their roots down deep into this freshly tilled soil in our back yard, maybe my roots will grow a little deeper too.