If you follow me on instagram, you might have seen me use the hashtag #fivegenerationsonestreet. This isn’t to mean that five generations are still with us today, but rather that five generations of my family have lived on this street. There’s something about land and the ability to develop roots that resonates with me. I’m sure this is largely because we lived away from our family for close to twenty years. I cherish being back on this land, and every day is an adventure around here. The street itself is named after my family, and it is just precious to me.
Meet Granny’s Garden. Granny was a florist back in the day, and she loved flowers. Her irises and heirloom daffodils filled this flower bed, and still bloom every spring. Flower beds can be a LOT of work, and especially those of substantial size. They can easily get out from under you if they’re located underneath a massive oak tree, like Granny’s. Weeds can overtake decades of work in a few short years. (Can’t stay on top of everything every single year.) Luckily for me, we had a week of straight rain and the soil was super wet, so those weeds never stood a chance from being yanked right up. (I had some cute helpers with me thank goodness!)
What resonates with me is that the garden was lined with bricks of all kinds. Some purchased, some reclaimed, some donated, and some leftover from other projects.
They made do with what they had on hand. All of the bricks are different. You can go online now and find umpteen thousands blogs trying to recreate what previous generations only knew by heart– that making do and being content was the key to happiness. They lived simple lives. They mended broken things.
And even if they were broken beyond repair, they still found a way to use them. Those imperfections were part of everyday life. Those uneven bricks were the balance beam of many a boy 50 years ago, and it remains the same today.
I am so quickly reminded that it is our imperfections that make us who we are.
Care to discuss?
You’re welcome to on Facebook.