Sunny Monday afternoon

A lovely weekend weather-wise so I've been gardening.

You remember some time ago Husband had a phase of breaking teapot lids? Today I asked Husband for his drill so I could make holes in the pots and use them for planting.

It took no effort for Husband to break the lids but I thought my hand would drop off it took me so long to drill holes. Then one broke. But that's fine.

I only got into gardening a few years ago - probably during lockdown - so I still get excited when something I've planted grows, or even flourishes. And these are all plants I've rescued that were nearly dead, and they've blossomed again!

The heuchera on the right, the lime green one, was trodden on by dogs so often that it was losing its will to live. I put it in its own pot and it revived, and, now it's big enough I've planted it out - and in a less dog-friendly part of the garden

Similarly the hydrangea in the big tub on the left had been eaten to a stalk by snails/slugs so I moved it to its own pot and it's growing! I pruned the red-tipped bush on the right after it had dried out I think. Not sure how that happened but something brought it to death's door, and now it's looking great again. 

I feel like a parent whose child is growing up and getting ready for university. 

And the little hydrangea in the front is a cutting I took! (Admittedly all the books said hydrangeas are dead easy to propagate but this is me, the Great Plant Killer.)

* * * * *

While I believe that all writing is creative I have to acknowledge that some is more, hm, from the soul. During the service yesterday morning we went outside to dress the cross and before that some prayers were said. While I was listening I felt the words, "Did Mary weep at the foot of the cross?" come to me. So yesterday afternoon I wrote the poem in the previous post. 

It's the second piece of soul creative writing I've done in the last two weeks - the other one being the Palm Sunday meditation - after bemoaning the fact that I'd lost it. So I am very happy.