I woke up early this morning thinking about things I want to grow and things currently growing.
Dreaming of my dream kitchen, I did some research and made some lists.
I drank mate with my family and ate a perfectly, slightly burnt, loaf of whole wheat smitten kitchen zucchini bread; which is just as good as it looks (and yes, it's awesome with only whole wheat and only olive oil)
Then I made myself a gardening journal out of an old notebook and some vinyl I had lying around.
Then I took myself outside just long enough to plant my peas before the much needed downpour began. I could feel it when I woke up, because it was there when I went to sleep, and it was the first thing I looked for when I opened the curtains this morning. I could feel it because rain and me, we're just that way.
Some days it's like there's someone behind me cranking the cogs. I just feel more. I want more. I do more. And inspiration comes more easily. Unfortunately not all days are like that. Most days I stay in my pajamas too long, or leave the kids in theirs, I may not bake, in fact I may not even wash the dishes.
But today I did stuff. Okay, I did not yet actually do the dishes. But that isn't as important as all of the things I did. It's probably the rain. It's definitely the rain.
I read on a billboard this morning: In Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
But today I totally disagree. In spring, and in fall, and any other time of year when the earths living flow falls from the sky (in the desert) you should smell like it. You should walk under it wearing holey shoes fit for a gardening desert warrior, meant to keep the dirt out of her toenails. You should feel it's cold squishiness between your toes and look for "bichis" with your two-year-old.
Because then next time you won't forget that you own galoshes. And there might not be a next time, because lets face it, you live in a desert, and it's having a drought.
I'm so glad I finally planted my peas!