Almost Spring...

I have an extreme case of spring fever that has settled in my soul. I have been working on my Cousins blog and have discovered just how much I have in common with a great great grandfather of mine and his beloved farm. He named his farm "Aberdare", the Welsh name for over the river.

I realize that sitting before me,just outside my front door, is my very own Aberdare, one that we lovingly call the "Garden of Eggen". The play on words is intended, as our sweet and simple 10 acres resembles less of an "Eden" and more of an "Eggen". See, we Eggen's are good hearted folks. What we lack in perfection, we make up for in good intentions and an ability to enjoy the pure and simple living of life itself. We have tractor races to see if the riding lawnmower can beat the '48 Ford tractor. We sit in the swing and watch the sun go down. We bathe our cat in Spaghetti sauce in the wading pool when he gets sprayed by a skunk passing thru the field. We have been called alot of things, Heathen's being one of the top ten, and we are just fine with our red-neck status, I am sure, much to the chagrin of our perfectionist neighbors and their "Better Homes and Gardens" garden.

Even though our farm is for sale and we don't know how long it will take to sell, we are trying to enjoy every last moment that we have here until we find "Garden of Eggen South" somewhere warmer. Sure, to look at the broken fences and weed covered lot, it may not look like much to you but it means the world to us.

At night, the farm takes on a whole new aura. One of darkness and mystery. When my husband and I were first dating, he took me out and showed me the stars and how to find my way if I were to ever get lost. I will forever be able to find my way in the dark back to you my dear sweetie. The dark nights also remind me of laying out on the trampoline with my sweet half-sister. She is a bit more shy than myself but we got her to actually howl out loud at the full moon as we watched it come up over Maple Mountain.

I bought some potting soil today. I am going to start a small group of sunflowers for a window container. I need to feel the dirt in my hands and know the smell of the earth. That musky, grounding aroma can take me back to summers past and hopefully the summer that's just around the corner. I realize that, to some, sunflowers are just a bunch of weeds but to me they are a reminder of the kind of person I am striving to be. To always turn my head towards the sun and always find the light. They also remind me of the time when I wasn't feeling well and my husband, in his highly red-neck, loving cowboy way, sacrificed his Pepsi cup and poked holes in the top of the lid with his handy dandy pocket knife and filled each hole with a wild sunflower that he had picked from our pasture. Twu-wuv... I related that story to a co-worker when he had sent me a beautiful boquet of roses and I said that these were okay but they weren't my favorite flowers that Stan had given me. He looked at me like I was crazy when I told him the story of my Pepsi-cup beauties.

I know that before long it will be time to borrow the neighbor's roto-tiller and once again plow our garden and plant our flowers and vegetables in their imperfect yet love filled rows. Last year, some of you heard of my adventures with the "attack of the killer tiller". I am bracing myself, lifting weights and doing some cardio so that I can take on that stupid tiller and show it who is the boss this year! Last year, I didn't have the strength to keep the tines down in the soil so needless to say, it took me for a ride. I would be a sure winner on America's Funniest Videos if we had it on tape.

Well, gotta go. It's time to go get dirty!