Life in Progress: A weblog by Heidi Price

Weeding out the weeds

My best friend, Michelle, and I have many coping mechanisms. The most effective, for me at least, is that we talk on the phone pretty regularly despite an Atlantic Ocean between us.

Another, and one we both stumbled upon, is the mental benefits of weeding.

When either one of us have a case of the "Mean Reds," to quote "Breakfast at Tiffany's," you'll know it because our yards and gardens will be immaculate. Not a weed in sight.

I don't know what it is, whether it's the act of pulling something from the ground or the end result, a cleaner, much better looking patch of earth, but it is an immensely satisfying task.

Yesterday, I went to visit my grandma, who lives on a farm outside of Carmichaels. They were in the midst of the first cutting of hay, and most of my family was busy, either working or trying to prepare meals to feed those who were working. For my part, I spent part of the afternoon pulling weeds around the sign that identifies the beginning stretch of fields that mark my grandma's farm.

The sign proclaims the land for "The Armstrong sites" for the family buried on a cemetery hillside nearby. I spent hours pulling unwanted vegetation from around the sign, sprucing up the chips and the rocks that mark the entrance to her farm and rearranging the rocks. When I left, my grandma's farm looked just a little bit better than when I arrived.

Even better was my state of mind.


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