It feels as though I had been waiting weeks and weeks for a day like yesterday to come along. Each day that I am unable to go out and involve myself with the garden, I turn to the ideal garden of my imagination. The one I strive for, yearn for and dream of.
It's been so long since I've been able to spend any real time in the yard that I've had plenty of time to work out all the little details of my dream garden. I've never shared that garden with Michael, it lives only in my head. It's what motivates me. But after a good few hours outside yesterday, and feeling absolutely high from the shoveling and the smelling of fresh, damp compost, I unleashed a torrent of plans on him. The ideas were coming so fast and furious that all he could do was laugh and shake his head. He had no idea what I'd been hatching all these long weeks.
The garden brings us closer together in some strange way. I think that it's just a relief for Michael to see that I am so truly immersed in something that brings me so much joy and pleasure. It's a drastic change from the me a few years ago that was horribly depressed, angry, and considering anti-depressants just to get from one day to the next.
I think of it as "trickle down" depression. It came from working everyday for a man that was clearly unhappy, choked and/or beat the hide off of animals in his care, had so little empathy for owners that he refused to let them be with their pets during euthanasia, and had his receptionists (me) ring up clients to inform them that their pets had malignant tumors. He was so cheap that he used pentothal as an anaesthesia for nearly every procedure (vs. isofluorane, a gas). I walked into the surgery suite when he was taking tissue from my own dog's back only to find Slip flopping like a fish on a sandy shore. He hadn't even given him enough pentothal to completely sedate him. Oh, I have to stop but working in this environment for five years had me so thoroughly depressed it isn't even funny.
Gardening is therapy, it's life, it's all things good and positive. Shoveling spadeful after spadeful of compost into a wheelbarrow is cathartic. Employing my mind to design the space, start the seeds, it's all cathartic, all healing. Finding worms in the soil is exciting and finding grubs for the hens an added bonus. Here are a few pictures from Sunday. I hope your garden heals your heart and brings you as much joy as mine does me.
Good guys.
Bad guys.
New bed area with compost.
That would definitely depress me too. I can't even imagine. We have such a wonderful vet, and he takes beautiful care of our animals. Thanks for coming by to visit. I wouldn't say spring has sprung, but I can feel its murmurings anyway.~~Dee
Posted by: Dee/reddirtramblings | Feb 20, 2012 at 07:51 PM
It makes my heart happy to hear that you have a wonderful vet. Finding a compassionate, caring person to look after your animals is important. I am at a new clinic now and it's like night and day. The people at the new place are so caring, I completely trust them. I needed to experience that again and I feel fortunate to work there. I love your blog, btw. I'm flattered that you stopped by mine!
Posted by: Roberta | Feb 20, 2012 at 08:09 PM
man, i'm so happy that you got out of that place.
Posted by: Katina | Feb 20, 2012 at 08:12 PM
It's been a seriously long road to get back to happy. The twisted thing is that I felt like something was wrong with me and it manifested in depression. When thoughts of suicide became a regular occurence, I knew it was time to fly. My only regeret is that I didn't give them the old Hasta la vista sooner.
Posted by: Roberta | Feb 20, 2012 at 08:28 PM