I made the decision before I posted Tuesday that I honestly felt there are somethings that need to be written no matter how private the topic feels. I believe it for so many reasons ranging from it is therapeutic for both the writer and the reader going through the similar thing to some pretentious high handed ideals I won’t go into. I didn’t get much feedback on the post but I know one person liked it and that is enough for me.
There are many other deep gritty emotional blogs I need to write. My soul is brimming with bubbling emotional topics that I need to lay bare in front of the world. Okay, I can’t even pretend to be that over dramatic but there are other things that I think would be good for me to write about. I have one topic for sure. Not today though. Today I am going to write about a damn good sandwich.
This morning I was puttering around thinking of things to write. I had my coffee and Doctor Who was on BBC America (Matt Smith makes a pretty good doctor in my opinion.) I got up up and made a sandwich for breakfast. I know it is an unconventional choice but we all know I am a rebel. Anyway, it was really good roast beef with feta cheese crumbles between thin slices of asiago cheese bread. So let me reset the scene, Me with coffee and God’s own sandwich watching Doctor Who. One of the things I am very blessed to have is the ability to see awesome moments in my life while I am in them. Coffee, sandwich, and Doctor Who was one of those small, simple moments.
I started a white trash container garden. I am growing two kinds of summer squash, cucumbers, and watermelon in pots in my yard. I have discovered I have a talent for growing seedlings. I have also discovered that I am way too attached to my seedlings and container garden. There is something satisfying about growing something and watching change from day to day. I have a freakish attachment to these plants though. I talked to the seedlings when they were growing on my table and now I go look at them every day just to check up on them. I have spare seedlings that I don’t have room to plant. (I had no idea that it would that my seeds would grow so well.) I cannot bring myself to throw them away. I know it is ridiculous. I texted my sister that some people drink after a bad break-up, I apparently plant strange vegetables and get unnaturally attached to them. I am not sure which method is healthier mentally but I know mine is cheaper. Anyone need some seedlings? I don’t know what is what anymore but just think of it as a garden surprise.
I know this seems like one of those “joy is in the simple things” posts. Honestly it probably is. Truth is, though, I have to believe that to survive right now. I know some people that thrive on competition or acquisition or stability. I thrive on hope. I learned that I am happiest when I have people to love and take care of and I have hope. I still have many people to love. I am not strong enough to have hope about love. I know all the platitudes; there is someone for everyone, many fish in the sea, blah blah blah. I see real love around me. I know it exists. It just hurts too bad right now to believe it will happen for me. So I bolster myself with the joys of great simple moments and the hope that a white trash container garden presents. I know I am a massive dork. I accepted this long, long ago.
Don’t judge me!