My journey for self-discovery had to begin with dirt under my nails

After revealing my pathetically, neglected backyard yesterday, I realized I need to spur into action. I've never had my own yard. I've lived in apartments for EVER. I don't know how to weed or plant or do anything. These are all excuses. Excuses designed to keep me from actually doing something. I am my own worse enemy.

I decided I needed to change this self-deprecating behavior and take charge. Be the person I want to be, not the person I've become. This sounds so silly, so easy. Why is change so hard for me? I don't know, and I'm certainly not going to find the answer today. So, I'll share with you what I did learn. I decided to do something to begin change...a brave step for me with all my insecurities.

First off, I bought bird seed for my poor empty bird feeder. It may take a couple of days for the birds to find it (and the squirrel) but it's now ready for them! Come, little birdies, come and be fed.

Do you have any idea how many different kinds of bird seed there are out there? I sat and stared at the bags in Home Depot. Should I choose the songbird variety pack? Or the comprehensive southwestern region bag? Maybe I need to run home to the Internet to research the best kind. Or call my mom. Or ask a salesperson. I had to battle my indecisiveness and just pick one.

I then wandered over to the nursery department. It was packed. I knew I wanted marigolds for the project I had in mind. My mom told me something along the lines of "Marigolds are easy to grow, bloom reliably all summer, and have few insect and disease problems." What I heard was, "These are hard to kill." That's all it took, I'm sold on 'em! This part was relatively easy. I was so proud of myself as I loaded orange and yellow marigolds into my car and took them home.


I then grabbed Sweet Annie, my cell phone, and my camera and headed to the front yard, which really looks decent, just needed some color. We have a yard service that comes weekly to mow and stuff, something we set up with our landlord, because the home owner's association around here is rather nazi-like in yard appearances. Here is what the flower bed looked like before I got to work...lots of weeds. (I tied Annie's leash around the tree so she could hang with me.)

I called my mom. "I just pull all of this stuff out, right?" Silly question. Why do I doubt my instincts? What am I scared I'm going to mess up? I take some pictures first. Then, I pull...and pull...and pull, for an hour or so...it felt like all day. See my weed piles around the flower bed? Nice, rich dirt, ready for planting. I found a zillion doodle bugs (some people call them pill bugs or roly-polys). I think that means you have good dirt, but I'm not sure. I take more pictures.

I then called my mom again, "How far apart do I plant them? How deep in?" "Rhea, read the info that came with them." Oh, right. Big, deep breath...I can do this. Gotta take some more pictures before I start. My younger son, Remy, shows up at this point to help dig. He likes this part a lot. We plant...then put the wood chips back on top. Ta da!

Then I have to repeat all the steps above for the next tree bed. My hands are sore by the time I'm done. It feels good though. I'm doing something I've never done before in my own yard. I'm using my hands. I'm one with nature. I'm making my yard prettier. I had some neighbors drive by and commpliment me. This feels good. I need to take some more pictures.

I'm so happy with the end result. Why do I fight myself so much? Why is everything so hard? I want to learn more about gardening, so I don't have to call my mom every five minutes with a question. When will I turn into the person others come to for questions? I know it's little and it's slow, but I'm going to turn into the person I want to be...eventually.