a lament

I don't check my mail very often. Maybe once every 8 days. What is the point? I mean, the only thing that comes to my box are bills. I honestly cannot remember the last time I received a real, honest to god letter. I think I was in college.

Instead of risking vulnerability this weekend, I opted for the safe bet--staying in my apartment and watching the complete first season of OC (also known as Orange County). A student did a speech on it and offered me her DVDs. My luck with the opposite sex is so terrible that eating snow lion or bombay house carry out while watching OC is not so bad. In fact, it's quite nice.

Today after working several hours at school, I passed by the old house to apologize to (talk to) my cats and to check up on things. I knew no one would be home this weekend, so I made the rounds. I will admit that come spring I am ready to work in the dirt--and I crave my time pulling weeds and planting new things in the garden.

The yard was out of control. My gardens, while the bulbs were happy and blooming, needed tending. I decided to park the car and work. I missed my time mowing. After spending 8 years passing over the same area of grass, I found I could do it blindfolded. I enjoyed the smell of grass and gasoline mixing together-- just like old times. In fact, it took me back years to my childhood mowing days.

And then I got to the back yard.

As I passed the gardens and noted all the work that needed to be done, I sobbed. I had to stop. Holding the running mower in my callosed hands I surveyed the grounds. The Bradford Pear that we planted our first year in the house during a torrential downpour was now higher than the house--and in full blossom. My daffodils were at their peak.

I stayed and worked until the grounds were permissible. I felt a longing and a tie to the land that I never imagined. This was probably the last time I would walk this area, dig in this spot, etc. etc. It was emotional and difficult and I found myself wanting to linger just a little longer...just long enough to make it look beautiful..

So, now back at the apartment.. My hands are swollen from working hard on a property that is no longer mine--but I feel obligated to keep it up-- as it should be. sigh.

I wonder what tomorrow's walk will be like and what is in store for me. And now back to episode seven of OC....