Today I pulled weeds...

Today, with clenched fists and gritted teeth, I pulled weeds. Spring has arrived and with all the beauty that it entails, my life has been overtaken by weeds. Hopeless, useless, and pointless weeds that overcrowd and disguise all the pretty parts of my flower bed life. And, as we know, if not taken care of every now and then, weeds multiply and spread, eventually taking over our flower beds, killing the flowers and seeds so carefully planted. So...today was it. Today was a day for weeding.

My 'weeding' involved a soft blanket, a glass of ice water, and a book. As I laid in my front yard, staring at the cloudless sky, my head felt like a top, balancing on an elevated spot of the ground, spinning madly out of control. I fought back tears, which made my eyes burn behind my thick rimmed sunglasses. Then, as I turned over on my stomach, I noticed two eyes staring at me intensly behind my glass door. There stood my cat, patiently waiting for her escape too. I let Jade out and watched her explore her surroundings, taking in every bird chirp, child laugh, and blade of grass blowing in the breeze. I followed Jade's lead and decided to listen.

I want to notice things. I want to see, and taste, and bask in the small things that writers write about and singers sing about. I want to notice things.

Soon, I started 'seeing.' I tasted the cool breeze and admired the softness of the grass that Beau had worked so diligently on last summer. I heard the grass crackle like Rice Krispies as I laid my ear against the fleece blanket. I tasted summer nights when I was a kid, dancing barefoot in the backyard, sucking on the petals of purple clover growing in the field behind our house. I studied our untamed landscaping and wild weeds and dreamed of summers of flower picking and planting. And eventually, I started feeling better.

I went to Hy-Vee and pretended I was at a fresh outdoor market, purchasing only fresh foods and hearty meat to grill. I bought strawberries and rhubarb, tomatoes and greens. I listened to Ron and Pat on 1650 on the drive home, a sound that is synonymous with summer and baseball at Wrigley. Maybe we won't sell those tickets after all...

And, as Beau came home and we walked hand in hand in our neighborhood, I felt better. The 'weeding' I did today helped. My flowerbed life was a bit clearer. And soon...very soon...I'll have time to plant something new to grow.

Today I pulled weeds.