The Wheel Turns to the Light

by cathrynbauer


The hollyhock seedlings not only made it through the darkness of winter, but they’re thriving!

Somehow, despite it being winter, the garden is growing!  I had Pete Merski and crew out to make cedar paths and dig two big vegetable beds.  It came out very well, though things are a little more square than Ted likes.  But I will be softening the lines with plants and curved pathlets of steppingstones.  Our California garden was always a bit of a metaphor.  When I was building up the soil and planting perennials, I was struggling to become a court reporter.  The garden filled in and blossomed as I passed my first exam, grew fuller as I developed a successful CART career, and became spectacular as I was finally passing the California Certified Shorthand Reporter exam, surviving my first, awful agency and moving on to success in reporting.

Similarly, I see the garden before me as symbolic of life in Maryland.  It’s just bare, nearly raw land that I need to bring things to, energy and know-how and even some outside help.  Today is going to be interesting.  Ted is off to a conference with his friend and work cohort Matt.  I rather wish I were going somewhere for a few days.  Pleasant as the house is, I have some end-of-winter cabin fever.  But today should be interesting, assuming the weather doesn’t keep me from doing what I want to do.  My reporter friend Cassandra is having a first birthday party for her granddaughter; surprised and pleased to be invited!  Ted and I were going to go to the Medieval Feast of the Celtic Society of Southern Maryland, a group that interests me.  Since he couldn’t go, I asked Matt’s wife Melinda.  Don’t know her well, but she seems pleasant.  After dropping off Matt this morning, she came in for coffee.  Although we didn’t spend a lot of time together, it reinforced my opinion that she is someone I would like to know better.  So today should be interesting.  I did email someone about an Irish session up in Baltimore, too.  Weather permitting, I may visit them tomorrow sans fiddle and see what they’re like.