Garden Spring 2022

They say there are different stages of grief. They argue about what those stages are. I'm of the school of thought that says the stages are all over the map and different for anyone. In my own experience, I'll tell you, there is never less grief. It's all just a matter of whether or not I can put it on the back burner, and how much effort that takes. I will say, that was very difficult to do when I was only three months out from the fire. The grief of my loss so fresh, and the debilitating physical injuries so fresh too. There were times when I just sat still in bed and cried. Well, for 10 minutes at a time, that is. After 10 minutes I had to get up and do a bunch of stretches, because in that 10 minutes of stillness all my skin grafts had shrunk and tightened. It felt like I was suddenly wearing clothes that were way too tight, holding me back from extending my limbs all the way. Only it wasn't a tight pair of clothing, it was my skin itself. So, I would have to pick myself up from my broken-hearted-mama misery and focus on being a good burn-survivor-patient doing all the stretches to make sure I didn't end up permanently wearing too-tight-skin. To sleep at night, I had to wear splints that kept me in a stretched position.

At any rate, when the grief was so fresh, I feel like it was appropriate to sit and weep for hours at a time on a regular basis. Not everyone thought so. There were times people scolded me for it. It was frustrating, but thankfully I've become well established in the fear of the Lord over the years. "The fear of the Lord" does not mean being afraid of God, it means having an awe, respect, and reverence for Him. It means caring what He thinks more than what people think... as opposed to "the fear of man", in which one cares what people think more than what God thinks. So, I rested secure in a knowledge that God approved of the state of my existence. God approved of me sitting in bed weeping. That was exactly what I needed to be doing at that time, in the Winter of 2020/2021, and maybe even into the Spring of 2021 somewhat. 

I don't remember exactly when the shift happened... It may have been Spring 2021, or maybe Summer 2021. I don't know. I just know that the time came when I needed something to do. A hobby, some sort of therapy, something to up and do. I was just starting to do a little bit of nannying again, maybe, once a week. But the other days of the week it was so hard to get out of bed. Grief, physical pain, what-have-you. But I knew it was time. Just as the fear of the Lord kept me sitting in bed weeping, it also got me up out of bed and seeking activity, too, each in their season. 

First I tried riding horses. I used to love riding when I was a teenager. Bareback, floating, in sync with the rhythm of the horse's trotting motion. Or flying at the gallop, as if soaring in heaven itself. It was marvelous. But that was when I was a kid. I did not enjoy it as a 27-year-old woman, especially with a compromised physical body. So I canceled my riding lessons very quickly. 

I turned instead to cultivating Uri's garden. Through the summer, the fall, all the way until it got too cold and wet to be outside. Then I spent the winter planning up what I would do in Spring 2022. I researched which flowers attract pollinators and repel pests, what vegetables I should plant next to each other, and so on. I started seedlings indoors in like February. in March, I got cinder block and good garden soil for raised beds. I had a surgery coming up in April and a lot of garden work to get done before being laid up. Jacob and I worked together for weeks. Sometimes even in the rain. 

 Here are the pictures of what we did early that Spring:

We took the fencing down temporarily so we could carry everything in.

Cinder blocks and good garden soil.

This teepee lattice had been a Fall 2021 project. I built it with sticks from around the yard and brown zip-ties. Then Jacob helped me do some stonemasonry with rocks from around the yard. The grass came from revived sod a neighbor had given me, as well as grass seed I planted to supplement. I tried to plant morning glories to grow up the lattice, but the chickens destroyed them as seedlings. Plus, it was kind of late to be planting them in the fall anyway. So I gave up for the winter. But in the Spring, oh, well in the Spring I was going to expand the fencing of the garden to include the whole corner of the yard, pretty much doubling the size of the garden. And that way the chickens wouldn't be able to get in and dig up my plants!

I dug a shallow pond and put a liner in it. My goal was to attract frogs to the garden, so the frogs would eat bugs. Compliments of all the garden research I was doing during the winter. 

Wheelbarrowing the dirt into all the garden beds, both cinder block and plastic.

This image shows the expansion to the garden. The original garden is to the right, mostly out of the picture. The expanded part has the plastic garden bed, the pond, the teepee, and some open space for grass also. This picture was taken before I put the fence back up.

So, we worked hard to get all those projects done, and then I got all the seeds planted the day before my April surgery. And the fences up, so the chickens couldn't disturb the seeds or seedlings! It was really refreshing, spending time outside working on the garden. It was good to have something to invest in. Much better therapy than riding horses for me! At any rate, Uri's garden has just always been there. It was there before the grief. And no matter what stage of grief I am in at any given time, I am always thankful for my garden. Uri's garden. Our family garden. It is a blessings.