The universe has thrust my family into a life of, shall we say, altered circumstances, but I refuse to view our lifestyle as anything but abundant. We have an abundance of good times, good friends, and good health. The universe called on me to woman up and get bravely creative. Or creatively brave. Either way, I like to think I rose to the occasion, but now Michael is making noise about growing a garden to offset our grocery bill. It’s a great idea, but Universe, I tell you now, I draw the line at digging in the dirt. Seriously, not going to happen.
Now I couldn’t be called a city girl by any stretch of the imagination, but neither am I wise in the ways of nature. I’m extremely pro environment, but strictly from a social policy standpoint. The closest I’ve ever got to camping was a hotel with an open arboretum, and that’s just fine by me, so when Michael starts talking about tilling and planting and (God save me) composting, I am one-hundred percent supportive. From over here. I’ll shout encouragement from my air conditioned space behind the screen door, but I will not get down and dig in the dirt. There’s worms down there, people! I’ll rise to any occasion, so long as that occasion DOES NOT involve worms!
Last year, my son’s preschool class was doing a unit on insects. He and I went outside in our backyard to study insects for ourselves. Never let it be said that I won’t do absolutely anything for my children.. We had a jar to put our collected bugs in and a magnifying glass to study them more closely. In retrospect, that might have resulted in us setting the insects on fire, which would have been an entirely different and rather gruesome experiment. Anyway, it never came to that because, no kidding, we were outside for about half a minute when son yelled “Aah! A bee!” and ran inside. Yep, I totally get it. From a purely academic standpoint, son and I are totally about dirt and bugs and gardening, but in terms of practical application– not so much.