And the Season Has Started Again… Seven Years of Waiting For It.

Years & years ago, back when I was still an Ohio boy, after working in her garden, I told my grandmother how much I liked working in the dirt.

“That’s the dago in you,” she said.

Now, I’m not one to question the word of his grandmother. Let alone when that grandmother was a fine & proper Italian herself. And nor would you, if you know what’s good for you.

I bring this up because today I was working in the dirt, again. I’m 38 years old. Still, to this very day, I can admit there is a feeling of freedom working in the dirt. The smell of it while it’s turning over. Or the smell of smoke from burning logs from the trees… the smell of grass just mowed in the summer afternoons.

(In case you have not picked up on it, I’m a country boy. A country boy that refuses to live in the cities ever again. Yes, yes: I am educated – a bookworm, but country, nonetheless. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my families – &, yes, I have more than a few – I love feeling that feeling of being free. To have land to till up, to start a campfire, to ride around on ATVs, fish when I want to fish WITHOUT A LICENSE – all of it…)

Making a garden is one of those things I love. Peppers, tomatoes, and Merrigolds surround the vegetables to keep away the insects…

My grandmother is the person who taught me a great deal about gardening. But the most important lesson she taught me about it, is what applies to most things in life that are worth a damn, you have to keep at it. You have to have a commitment to keep going at it.

With gardening, with writing, with relationships – YOU HAVE TO KEEP AT IT!

Today, I didn’t get half of the things I wanted to get done accomplished. But that is what tomorrows are for. And I know I have a tomorrow.

Now, do you?

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