Earth Outdoor Living Diaries

I just finished reading The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. My sister and I grew up watching the movie, and it filled us with imagination. We would play out the parts, even quote lines from the movie. I wonder if this is when I began my passion for old keys. My favorite part is when Mary Lennox found the key buried in the earth.

As many times as I've seen movie adaptations, I've never actually read the classic. It didn't surprise me when my heart began to race as I got to the part where the Robin showed Mary where the key was hidden. It is such a beautiful story of transformation, relationship, healing, maturity, the spirit of children, and what can be accomplished with determination. I love the imagination. The adventure. It never fails to make me want to run outside and fill my lungs with fresh air. It certainly makes me appreciate even more the incredible beauty of nature.

I work weekends during the summer at a large antique-style, family-owned event place used for all types of events, mostly weddings. Most of my duties include some kind of food service. I have new respect and admiration for waiters and waitresses after working this job. Though it is very exhausting work, I love it.

I worked a fun, beautiful and enormous wedding last night, finally sliding into bed around 2 a.m. The day following a long one like that isn't very productive. I sort of move through the day like a brain-numb zombie, doing every activity that involves sitting down. My sweet, wonderful husband decided that I needed a little help around the house. He proceeded to:

My husband knows how much I love roses. For our 4th wedding anniversary, he gave me two beautiful Smooth Prince rose bushes. I am so grateful that they are thornless, as my 15-month-old son has already fallen into them several times. Now, if only I can get my dog to stop... ahem... "watering" them.

 Anyway, I thought I would need my husband's help planting them. Our house is built on a lot of typical Alabama ground - red clay - and it is very hard to break apart. I knew as soon as I planted them, they would simply smother and die from the tough, slick red clay. They began to look a little unhealthy after sitting in their pots since April, so I decided to plant them yesterday. I gathered my son up into the car and drove to the nearest superstore to buy soil. I also needed to return something there, so it made a perfect two-birds-one-stone trip. As the lady in returns scanned my item for exchange, she asked for my ID. I gave it to her, the excitement over planting my roses growing quickly.

My husband, Kris, often surprises me in wonderful ways. He planned our entire honeymoon secretly, and didn't reveal our location (Hawaii) until the rehearsal dinner. It was an amazing night. Shortly after we moved into our first home, I went out of town on business for the weekend. I returned home to all of the boxes unpacked, all items put away, and the house spotlessly clean. I melted, then cried. After our first child was born, our budget grew tighter as unexpected expenses popped up. It was around my second mother's day, and I'd thought I had convinced Kris to not buy a gift, only a fun dinner at home. He came home from work with a brand new HP Touchpad. I began to jump up and down and squeal in excitement, effectively frightening our 13-month-old son.

However, my attempts at surprising him always seem to fall short. I say too much and ruin the surprise. I don't quite get the gift right that he'd been wanting. Or lack of details force me to ask about it further, allowing him to guess what I am up to. Today I had decided to mow the lawn during my son's naptime, knowing it was a chore that Kris had planned to tackle the very next day. Considering the fact that he works full time and is going to Engineering school two nights a week, I desperately wanted to lighten his load by handling the lawn for him. Dressed in shorts, a tube top, my husband's "grass shoes" (I didn't want to ruin my cute ones with grass stains) and noise-cancelling ear protectors, I was ready to go. I dragged the giant cub cadet push-mower out of the garage, and in only two yanks on the pull-string, it cranked right up. Thirty minutes into the project, with only half of the yard left to go, the thing shuttered to a stop. Out of gas.