New Moon Spring Self-Care

Spent an amazing Saturday evening *by myself*.  This week has been a really intense ending to a fairly intense semester.   As part of my self-care, I finally got out in my garden and planted all the seedlings I bought weeks ago (some of which look the worse for wear after waiting outside for me to find time for them).   I sifted through the springy, alive compost I spent all winter making, and just got back in touch with the ground that I hadn't touched for almost nine months.  I pulled weeds, cleared ground, and dug nutrient-rich compost into some of the harder winter dirt and planted about half my garden with kale, cabbage and tomatoes.   Last year, I tried, as usual, to have it all - but my cabbages, shoved into a shady corner, grew slowly and  were ravaged by bugs and bunnies.  This year, I thought about what I *really* wanted, and what I had energy for.   Instead of tucking in carrots or onions where they really wouldn't have space to grow, or crowding in larger plants in an effort to "have it all," I chose a few plants I really wanted to prosper - cabbage, kale, spinach, tomatoes - and spread them out all over the garden.  I gave them a crap-ton of compost and plenty of room to be strong and well.   I knew this meant I would have to give up some things - eggplants, for one, and maybe green peppers - but I know that I won't have time to tend high-maintenance seedlings or slow-growing, disease-prone tropical plants like them.   So I did the hardest thing for me - I said "no" to possibility and variety.   Instead, I channeled strength and power into the "few good things."  Cabbage, kale and spinach have become staples- this summer, I'm hoping to provide weekly food instead of dazzling breadth.   We'll see if I can hold back, though.   I do love the *4* eggplants or peppers I usually get.


This is, as usual, a metaphor for my life.  I am fueled by the possibilities - or my dreams of how life *could* be.    This is both beautiful and dangerous.  

Worm Moon & a Brand New Way to Compost!

This past week marked the March full moon, also known as the "Worm Moon".
From the Farmer's Almanac website:

The Full Worm Moon was given its name by the Algonquin tribes from New England to Lake Superior.
At the time of this spring Moon, the ground begins to soften and earthworm casts reappear, inviting the return of robins. This is also known as the Sap Moon, as it marks the time when maple sap begins to flow and the annual tapping of maple trees begins.

Well, global warming or no global warming, it is beginning to feel like springtime here, with warm days alternating with raw, windy nights, and, of course, the hallmark of New England spring: MUD!

I love the feeling of this time of year, the energy shift that it brings.   The days and nights are equal length, the daylight lasts longer and the earth is coming back to life.   It's subtle, animal things that our body instinctively feels: more bird noises, more smells coming out of the wet ground.  Crocuses, daffodils and all my perennial buds pushing their way out of the ground.    Yesterday I saw a dove sitting on our front porch.