Outside

As I type this, I'm sitting on my front porch (not on a chair but actually on the concrete) - soaking up the twilight and staring proudly at my vegetables. (Yes, I'm that good of a typist that I can actually stare at plants while I type. Remind me to tell you someday about my Junior year in high school when typing was the one class that kept me from a straight A average. Needless to say, I was sufficiently annoyed to master that skill before the end of the next six weeks.)

I have FINALLY planted vegetables in some containers. For years I've wished I could have a garden but I have a very shady yard. I know I've blogged about it before - so really this urge to get my hands dirty and grow food for my family is nothing new. This time around, I already have a few baby green beans, some fabulous basil, baby cilantro and arugula and a nice little bunch of lettuce. I'm beginning to think it might really happen. Everything is in containers, and I keep them in my front yard because that's the best bet for some sunshine.

As I sit out here, I'm closer to being "Jennifer" than at almost any other time. I know I'm "supposed" to exercise or check things off of my to-do list, but nothing seems to matter as much as being out here and listening. It's corny, and I never thought I'd look at it this way, but I almost feel connected to my plants. It's bizarre.

Of course - if they let me down and croak then I'll probably take it personally and hold a grudge. It's a double-edged sword, I suppose.

Next weekend I'll be camping in a tent all by myself for two nights out in Bastrop (Boy Scout chaplain training...). As I sit here on my porch, listening to the wind in the trees, I'm excited about the idea and looking forward to sneaking away into the woods for a few hours with no one else around so that I can just exist.

I do love shopping and a great happy hour, but my home-grown baby vegetables beat out a top shelf margarita and a pair of expensive shoes any day of the week. Even if said shoes are red - and that's saying something.

Tent Sweet Tent

My daughter made this sign before we left and my husband was smart enough to throw a roll of tape into the suitcase for us so that we could tape it up. Here's my bear and her Grover posing beside the sign, which we taped right above our pillows. We really did have a good time. It was beautiful. Those of you who are on my Kodak Gallery picture list just got an album full of pictures a few minutes ago.

We're both pretty beat, but before I take a shower and let myself rest, I've GOT to get out and at least take a good walk.

It's funny - I never rest very deeply at night, I wake up often (it's almost like I'm only dozing) and last night was no exception. But it was wonderful when I woke up last night because I could look up and see the trees (we didn't put the rain roof on our tent - I could see the moon through the branches of the trees overhead) and hear the insects. Even though we were on the hard ground (it didn't dawn on me to bring an air mattress like our tent neighbors did) I'm not sore and it was still cozy in it's own way. I really did like it. I guess Mom is right - there's a lot more of my Dad in me than I realize! I would love to go out one night just by myself and stay in a tent like that. No rush to get up in the morning, all by myself, just listening to the birds in the morning.

There was a campfire song we learned this weekend and I like the words:

Rise up oh fire

By thy light's glory

Give to us beauty,

wisdom and joy.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, I didn't even bother trying to get the tent back into that case.