Once a month blogging

Blogging used to bring me such joy...I don't know why it doesn't now. Ah well.

I was working out in the garden day before last and thinking about how much I am like my grandmother and not much like my mother. My maternal grandparents came from farming families. I thought it interesting that, of the 20 or so children in those two families, only two of them farmed as adults. They were definitely in a hurry to get off the farm! I don't even recall my grandparents growing tomatoes or anything over the summer. That is something that my children will certainly remember. Summer is when Mom grows stuff she likes to eat and then complains because we don't also eat them.

But I do have memories of my grandmother working in the yard. Not a garden, not flowers, but the yard. She was murder on dandelions in our yard in Austin. Every time I try to pull up a dandelion only to have it snap off at the root in my hand, I think of her and how irritated she'd be with us when we tried to "help" weed and do the same thing. She was a pretty patient person, as far as I remember, but I do recall that irritation. I share it now. Stupid dandelion!

I also have memories of Mamaw working in her yard in Brady. Again, she didn't plant flowers or really anything that I recall except for some Swedish ivy and monkey grass. But her yard was very well cared-for. Most of all, I remember her working out in the yard until she was drenched with sweat. She was very single-minded about what she was doing and she didn't finish until it was done. And her pale, thin skin was usually damp.

So far this does not sound so much like me. I strongly disdain sweat. I would go so far as to say that I detest sweating. But over the last week I've put in two days wherein I sweat like the proverbial porcine animal. Not only that, but I have worked to the point of total exhaustion. This is not my normal MO but it also doesn't feel wrong to me. In fact it's felt very right. And I felt a kinship to my grandmother, who did much the same thing although not with the same things. If that makes sense at all.

What's the point of all of this? I don't know, but it's a blog post. And I like remembering my family, especially those far away because they've passed to the next life or because they're physically far away. I also enjoy being able to put in a full day's work wherein I'm not physically prevented (I am continually in thanksgiving that my health is so much improved from last summer) or emotionally unable. Yesterday and today have been days wherein my emotions got the best of me and I could not do anything useful. Perhaps tomorrow will be another glorious day outside in the mud, fresh air, and pollen.