Take it outside
I took my knitting outside yesterday, so Fiona played in the garden with me. I was about halfway up the cell phone pocket side when I spied an incredibly insidious weed that had to be eradicated from my Secret Garden. I sort of tossed Fiona over in the direction of the Salvage Yard Goddess and started weeding....which I find incredibly therapuetic in small doses. The process of yanking out things that I deem weedish, and then stepping back to see how much better it looks, always leaves me with a sense of being marginally in control of my little corner of the flower patch. Which is about all the control I want, thank you very much. I've been accused, rather more frequently than one would like, of being out of touch with Reality, because I get overwhelmed by the barrage of uncontrollable human horrors that is called News and choose instead to go outside and Knit and *play in the Garden*. Where I am always greeted by something miraculous and oblivious to Human Stupidity. The gardenia *August Beauty* is blooming it's little heads off, creating such a heavenly smell that surely it is totally unaware of the cruelty all around it...and the bullfrog who has taken up residence in the spillway of the pond is singing his song, completely unconcerned for the moment that there are half a dozen neighborhood cats who are interested in him for a snack. It isn't that I don't CARE, rather that I care too much, and long ago realized that I would lose my mind if I tried to be responsible for other people's misery. I try to help, and above all else, try to be part of the solution rather than the problem. I plant a garden that is open to the view of all who pass by, rather than fencing it in trying to hoard the beauty for myself. I give away much of the abundance, in the form of cuttings and divisions and realize that I had nearly nothing to do with it in the first place. For many of my teenage years, I lived down the road from a convent of the sisters of poor clares. I would walk along the wall and pick ripe apricots and take them to the grotto and sit with the peace and quiet. The sisters had no contact with the outside world, but stayed inside their cells all day, barefoot and in simple habits, praying for the woes of the world outside. I was such a frequent visitor that the Mother Superior knew my name and received my apricots and answered my questions about WHY they stayed inside all of the time. "We choose this life" she told me "because we are called to it." Over the years, my visits diminished in frequency, though I often tried to emulate their peaceful tranquility by retreating from the busyness of the World and praying for Peace. I always make a trip to the sanctuary and the grotto at the convent when I am in my old neighborhood. It is more beautiful than ever...or so it seems to me.


You're a wise woman, Greta. xxoo
Posted by: Kim | May 17, 2004 at 08:53 AM
Greta, have you ever read _Middlemarch_? If not, do I have a quote for you.
(and if not, get thee to a library/bookstore, woman!)
Posted by: Em/Michelle | May 17, 2004 at 09:43 AM
Another beautiful peek into the Soul of Greta. I can more than relate. About a year and a half ago I decided to do a media fast. No newspaper, no TV news, in fact hardly any TV at all. Instead I watch movies that I love, read books and talk to other people about what's happening in the world, rather than have it imposed on me by the media which certainly has its own agenda. I am ever so much happier now.
Posted by: Nathania | May 17, 2004 at 09:53 AM
I think that the garden is often a refuge for those of us who "care too much" because it allows us to nurture to our heart's delight.
I love the Salvage Yard Goddess! And I can just imagine the heavenly smell of gardenias, my very favorite flower!
I'm off to spend some ime in my own garden today, thanks for your words and wisdom this morning!
Posted by: Christine | May 17, 2004 at 10:47 AM
Hey, I just happen to have Middlemarch in a stack of books next to my bed! What should I be looking for Em?
Greta, I'm very interested in seeing your Fiona! I have 2 skeins each of Sand and Moss left over from my Ballet Neck Twinset. Think I could make the bag work with 2 and 2? I know the pattern calls for 3 of one color but I like to use leftovers, although a nice bright contrast color would be nice too.
Posted by: Sharlene | May 17, 2004 at 01:13 PM
I too understand the therapy of weeding (much prefer it to the weeding that has to get done). Also, it's fun that Maynard (my old-man Angora buck) has learned to speak softly to me when he sees me doing it. He just wants to remind me that there really is no need to put those tasty weeds on the compost heap, but he's learned that if he's too vocal then everyone else notices what I'm doing and he doesn't get his fair share (which in his opinion is most of them!)
So glad that Daughter Bird has found the perfect place to go to school! Congrats to her (and you too!)
Posted by: Sue | May 17, 2004 at 02:12 PM
A Middlemarchalong? Come on, wanna? I've never read it.
Greta darling, this post was incredible. Thank you for this, for sharing this. As usual, you are right and good and brilliant, in all ways.
And going back a few days, I find it SO interesting to compare the visits to the colleges -- the One that Wasn't Right to the one that will be Her College. Skipping was a necessary part of that decision. I love it. I can see it.
xoxxx
Posted by: Rachael | May 17, 2004 at 02:20 PM
A Middlemarchalong it shall be! I've never read it either, but if EM says we MUST, well then, that pretty much settles it! I'm off to the library to check it out!
Posted by: greta | May 17, 2004 at 03:19 PM
The sisters off of Elena? Their apricots were terrific, weren't they? I used to go by there with my friends- we were all on tiny ponies at about 7-8 years old. We would try to carry as many of the luscious fruit as possible for later consumption- and ended up with stains and bruised loot. Wow- thanks for jarring loose a wonderful memory!
Posted by: Carrie | May 17, 2004 at 04:25 PM
You are always such an inspiration! Congrats, too, on the college decision. Isn't it nice when knowing comes?
Posted by: Jane | May 17, 2004 at 08:00 PM
Thanks for inspiring my blog entry for today! I'll never forget the apricots- and the warm fuzzy they convey.
Posted by: Carrie | May 17, 2004 at 08:29 PM