Gardening, stray cats and flatbread pizza
A note about resting
Pots have been pulled.
Seeds have been planted.
Blossoms are now seen on trees.
Trash was picked up.
Weeds were pulled.
The hummingbird feeder was put up.
Construction materials for the greenhouse were assessed.
A stray cat watched me, disapprovingly.
I did all this while my flatbread was baking, after I ate the flatbread and then while wondering if I should bake another one.
I ain't got no place to be right now, and this is Good:
My brain feels calm.
My mind is unwinding.
My body is loose and flexible.
My smile is quick to form.
Rest doesn't necessarily mean “sleep all day”.
Sometimes it means “no drama”.
Sometimes it means “minding my own business”.
Sometimes it means sitting down with a warm flatbread and an ice cold fizzy, staring at the birds after tending to the earth.
Rest.
