Before my Mom put her house on the market she tagged the plants that weren’t included in the sale, intending on taking them to her new house. Now she is digging out these plants she can’t part with and driving them to my house with an urgency usually reserved for the transportation of human organs. “Tammy, I got the lavender out! Get it in the ground as soon as possible!” Now, I love to garden. This is nerve wracking though, taking her beloved plants, each one complete with a story of when and how she got it, and being expected to make them live in my soil.

Our house was built in 1920 but apparently no one ever felt the desire to plant a garden here. In the 2 and a ½ years we’ve lived here I have slowly worked on creating a garden. Every time I thrust my shovel into the earth I hit rocks, lots and lots of big rocks. I ended up making a big pile of them and now they are partially hidden underneath the back stairs because I don’t know what to do with them. Ideally the yard should be totally rototilled and new topsoil brought in. I had that on my list of things I want to do next year.

Now with the arrival of Mom’s plants I feel a nervous sort of expectancy in the air. She says it’s okay, that she knows they might not make the move, but I feel responsible to create a garden out of them, to keep them alive for her. My thumbs don’t feel so green anymore.

Polly is home, safe and sound. She brought with her new stories of her adventures and new smells emanating from the pile of wet, muddy clothes. She wants to return to Outdoor School as a high school student, to be a camp counselor. She told me stories of fishing, touching snakes and taking hikes. It is exciting to see her growing up. The day after she returned home I received a letter from her stating that she wasn’t having fun, that she thought she was going to throw up, and would we be mad if she came home early. When I asked her about it she said that yeah, she was feeling homesick when she wrote that letter. I am glad that I didn’t get it until she was already back. It would have left me fraught with worry over her.

Nathan is doing well, so well that I haven’t wanted to say anything for fear of cursing us. He seems to have his emotions in check for the time being and I can’t even describe the relief that settles over our home when he isn’t having one of his outbursts. Hopefully this calm will last. Let me knock wood quickly.

My husband has been working too much, so much that I feel as if I never see him. He was off last night and again tonight. It is so nice to just have him beside me. Because he works the graveyard shift and sleeps days, most of my nights are spent alone in bed. Having him beside me last night was such a treat. We were watching a movie and I reached out to hold his hand. Lacing his fingers through mine he held my hand for over an hour, and it was one of those moments that are hard to describe. I felt at peace, just having him near me. I try to remember to be grateful that he has a job, as much as I do miss him.

I have decided to read “The Virgin Suicides” by Jeffrey Eugenides next. I told myself some time ago that I could not buy another book until I read everything on the shelf that I haven’t gotten to yet. I have stuck by that for months, with the exception of one book I picked up at a garage sale for a quarter. Today is a rainy day, perfect for snuggling up with a book and reading away the hours. I have a bit more housework to do and I am thinking that I’ll wait on the reading until the kids are back in school tomorrow and my husband returns to work. I don’t want to miss any opportunities to spend time with them.

I hope all my readers are having a good weekend. If you have any book or movie recommendations, please leave them in the comments. Or even if you just want to say hello. I love hearing from people.