Grabbing the Moment

We are in the gardening zone. In Boulder, the window when dirt is workable, between the snow and the dry summer, is very brief. So we are digging and weeding and planting and moving rocks and even getting a new fence. The kids are involved, each in their own unique way:

• Will begged for jobs to earn $9 for books;
• Clara specialized in planting so she could sift fresh dirt with her bare hands;
• June in her fancy dress twirled her red weeder like a baton; and
• John moved rocks, inch by inch.

I have grand visions, as I do every Spring. Our yard is evidence, by all that is blooming AND all that is incomplete. Honestly, it's a challenge to garden with four kids. But, I tell myself that it's good for them. And good for me. And anyway, it's all connected:

• The rocks we move are solid baby Johns;
• The phlox and sunny marigolds we plant are "skippy-hoppy" Junes;
• The rich dirt we make by churning clay with compost is earthy Clara; and
• The bushes and vines that will soon be reaching in every direction are curious Wills.

I love gardening. And I love mothering, too.

Will's Vine

Clara's Dirt
June's Marigold

John's Rocks