28th of February. Special day. The first day of the year that I actually gardened. Gardening for me means touching the soil, getting my hands dirty. Not just collecting the branches that have fallen down during the winter due to the high winds, but touching the earth, picking the weeds. Yes, there are plenty of weeds that have survived the winter , already invading my garden . They are a resilient bunch. Even with the gloves I wear – which I “borrowed” from the neighbour – still ended up with black lines under my fingernails.
Great! I love it! Scrubbing my nails at the sink , looking up in the mirror and seeing my face with streaks of dirt on it, I smiled… Spring is here.
Don’t care how cold it will get, how much snow will fall, once I had my hands dirty, spring has officially started for me.
Does this sound too sugary, syrupy?
So what about the incredibly blissful morning with homemade pancake with blueberries, sunny side up eggs for one, scrambled for the other one…
Long walk/hike with son in search of snow drops and hellebores. M needed encouragement, the muddy tracks didn’t sound too exciting for him, till I offered him 1 minute PS4 time for each snow drop he found, and 2 for a hellebore. By the time we reached home he clocked in 140, so had to divide it by 2 to make it more realistic.
Tried real hard to persuade him about the beauty of walking, hiking in the forest, spending his day outdoors, but right now his bed, or the sofa sounds way more exciting to him with a remote control in his hand.
Not going to give up on him, so if I have to bribe him to get him where I want him to be, than be it.
At least for now.
Since we spend our weekdays down in the city, weekend in the forest became even more special to us.
I have serious withdrawal symptoms , walking in the city, with cars coming and going, is not exactly the same.
In the evening, when all was quiet, M safely tucked into bed, settled down by the fire with a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon .
The words my sis said to me earlier were still in my head.
She actually told me that my posts are quite boring.
She believes that it is too impersonal and happy.
After all nobody wants to know about how content or happy someone else is. People like misery, want to know that other people have the same problems, that they are just like them, living in a miserable relationship, or still single and in search of love, struggling at work, with kids…
Honestly? I don’t really care. I am not going to do what everyone else expects from me…I’ve always been like this, not going to change now.
And as for Happy…
Happiness is in your hands, don’t expect others to make you happy!
Should I write how horrible it is to wake up at 1 am. so we can catch the morning flight to Lisbon?
Or about my dilemma of having a dog or not, since we travel all the time?
Or if we should order in sushi or go to the lebanese restaurant for dinner tonight?
Don’t think so. Too Shallow.
This is only the surface..
There are the days when I can barely walk and my son needs to hold my hand to help me up the stairs at the school.
My right arm is not moving properly, having physical therapy to get it function again.
Just realised that my eyesight got so much worse, had to have new glasses.
Spending my nights alone.
Writing this alone…mostly alone.
Still haven’t managed to attend any photography classes because there is no one who would look after him for me.
Haven’t got a clue how to handle the garden all by myself.
And I think I gained some weight. 
Wrote this a week ago, right now I am sitting at the dining table , while my son is sleeping on the sofa. Got a sick child, uncaring mother, trying real hard not to loose my inner peace.
Like in the Kung Fu Panda movie, which was my son’s favourite. Every single time I was getting wind up , he just calmly told me “ Mum, inner peace “… with that , the tension was gone, made me laugh .
Kids are wise, much wiser than us. So I am going to sit down next to him and watch a movie and not worry about tomorrow.
Flu season came late to us, but it’s officially here.
LOL.
Monica