To build or to plant

I am hearing the chirping of crickets and night insects this evening.  It has been near 80 F today.  That is amazing for February.  I'm resigned to the fact that the back of winter may be broken.  The spring flowers are blooming.  Tomorrow is going to be rainy, followed by some cooler weather--to 60 F.  I've hardly used a sweater this year.

It has been a busy day. I drove the boat to the yard for bottom painting.  Hopefully, she will be done and ready to be put back in the water next week. We also worked in the garden, planting potatoes.  The green house has all kinds of plants that we grew from seed--tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, herbs, and flowers.  My wife ordered several of the strip lights for plants so we have tiers of those lights and trays of plants on tall shelves.  We also brought home two truck loads of composted manure for the garden. We are amending the soil--changing its composition and making it better for growth.  This is  not so different from those amends made in recovery.

I'm lost on what to do for the weekend without the boat.  Maybe we will go on a field trip to the Birds of Prey center and take a look at all the raptors.  We had talked about going tent camping but with rain coming tomorrow, it sounds like a wash out.  I also looked into going to a rustic cabin at one of the state parks, but those were booked.  So this may have to be one of those spur of the moment times when we just do what sparks our interest--no plans, just spontaneity.

Meanwhile, I am going to soothe some aching muscles in the whirlpool.  Both of us have been working out hard at the gym and in the garden.  Time to just chill.  Tomorrow will be here soon enough, bringing whatever magic it has in store.  Here is a bit of the magic that was around here today:

In life, a person can take one of two attitudes: to build or to plant. The builders might take years over their tasks, but one day, they finish what they're doing. Then they find that they're hemmed in by their own walls. Life loses its meaning when the building stops.


Then there are those who plant. They endure storms and all the vicissitudes of the seasons, and they rarely rest. But unlike a building, a garden never stops growing. And while it requires the gardener's constant attention, it also allows life for the gardener to be a great adventure.


Gardeners always recognize each other, because they know that in the history of each plant lies the growth of the whole World.―Paulo Coelho