Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Daffodils in Pots

Last spring, i seriously focused on dividing daffodils and other bulbs (leucojum and lycoris). I gave away dozens of pots, but after the daffodils faded in May, a couple dozen pots still remained. The strappy foliage gave away to what looks like pots of naked dirt. I have now moved those "empty" pots into the garage for the winter. I know the pots are not actually empty, because white roots are sticking out of the bottom.

When we are well rooted in our spiritual practice, we too can bloom whole-heartedly.

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Snow Day Retreat

What do children call a day-long retreat from schoolwork?
Snow day!

With 8 inches of snow falling today, my sweetie and i simply stayed home, retreating from the world.

Stay-at-home life is calm and beautiful. No stress. Just time to go out and play in the snow.

And the snow is silent.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Lemon Verbena Sprouts Indoors

In October, on a whim, i potted up the 3-foot tall lemon verbena that had been growing in the herb garden all summer. Its leaves immediately died, due to transplant shock, so i pruned the stems down to 3 inches, and waited.

Now, 2 months later, the bare stalks are sprouting new growth.

Patience is a cure-all quality, good for just about every situation.

Now that my indoors herb garden is growing, i can add lemon verbena the next time i cook chicken.


Saturday, December 9, 2017

Stomping on the Compost

Two of my 3 compost bins were filled to the brim, so today, just minutes before the snow began to fall, i climbed into the bins and stomped around on them, lowering each one by several inches.

My sweetie had collected a tarp full of leaves that we used to fill the bins to the brim again. A few hours later, the cap of leaves is covered with a snowy quilt.

Today, the weather changed from autumn into winter. The compost bins changed from full to mostly full and back to full. Yesterday, i changed in age--on my birthday.

It's all the same, yet it's all changing, if i just stop and notice.



Friday, December 8, 2017

Tulip Bulbs in the Dark

Post-Thanksgiving, tulip bulbs are on sale, 50% off. I buy 50 bulbs, pot them up into 10 flowerpots, and next week do the same thing. My garage has 4 rows of pots sitting on the floor between the car and the truck, waiting for spring equinox when they can come out of hiding.

The tulip bulbs are buried in the darkness of the soil. December 7 is the earliest sunset of the year, at 4:16 p.m. Oh, the night seems long when darkness begins in late afternoon.

It's time for us to gestate, meditate, contemplate the dark. We can't see clearly in the dark, but we can feel. Feel the closeness, the surround, perhaps the coolness. Float in the dark of not-knowing, trusting that eventually the light returns.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

100 Hyacinth Bulbs

I ordered 100 hyacinth bulbs since i couldn't find them at my local sources. A hundred bulbs! What was i thinking?

Maybe i wasn't thinking. I was simply craving. I do have quite a collection of forcing vases. I've tucked 60 vases, with hyacinth bulbs suspended over water, into a corner of the basement.

That left 40 bulbs in the bag, so yesterday, i potted them up--8 pots with five bulbs in each one. Now those pots are living in the garage until March.

I'm hoping i have 60 friends to whom i can give the blooming hyacinths.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Preparing for the Solstice Bonfire

The fire has been laid for the winter solstice bonfire. It's a brush pile covered up with rotten pallets--the remains of several compost bins.

When the pallets are new, i stand 4 of them in a square and tie them together. Voila! Instant compost bin.

It takes almost a year to fill one up, so that by the time the compost has composted, the bin has also started to compost itself.

On December 21, the pallets will take the express train to "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" when i light a glorious bonfire.

Every day, we deposit our own personal compost into the toilet. Meanwhile, the composting action of the digestive system is also composting its container, the body. Over many years, the body becomes wiggly, brittle, and broken, just like the compost bin pallets.

Let your unique light blaze forth while you still have a body to carry it around.