Potting Up

Some days I have no ambitious plans at all. My non-ambitious agenda for the day:

• walk dog
• brush dog
• pot up baby plants
• take some plant-ish garden-ish pictures
• cheer on oldest at track meet
• feed and water children regularly
  
• sleep

So far I've walked the dog, gotten middlest to school, applied food & drink to those who were hungry, and caught up on blog-reading. The little plants really do need potted up as they have about exhausted their space in the starter cells. Also, I think the nighttime temps should be high enough now that everything can move out to the greenhouse instead of perching on my fridge. I might bring the nightshade family indoors at night for a while yet (the peppers, tomatoes and eggplant). THAT will entirely depend on whether or not I actually remember to do it. Intentions excellent, follow-through haphazard.

I'm very glad to see more pleasant weather in the forecast though. It's been quite a long couple of gloomy rainy weeks hereabouts.

Preps for the spiritual

I read a lot of blogs about preparedness and talk with people on the subject, and yet for all that I seldom hear or see much about spiritual preparedness. Now, don't panic, I'm not going to go on a conversion spiel!

What I'm pondering is --- while spirituality and faith live "within" the self, and one doesn't actually need all the trappings and such, many of us have faiths that are made more vibrant and meaningful with our tools and trappings and things. Elements of worship or practice that we would perhaps feel lost without.

And yet... how many people do you know who have "stocked up" on the things that would be needed if, gods forbid, society fell apart and you were essentially left on your own to make sense of things? Granted that's a worst-case sort of scenario, and we'll likely always have some manner of community with which to continue on even if "things fall apart".

But I read about people storing 2+ years of freeze-dried foods for the entire family; people buying weapons and ammunition; people investing in farms and seed and animals. In all of the reading and the talking, I've yet to come across mention of building up a supply cabinet of, oh, that very handy match-light charcoal for incense. Or learning about how to grow one's own magical herbs. Or how to make your own religious trappings like candles, icons, rosaries, robes, prayer books, and such.

No one can take what is in my head, and I can live my faith without the "stuff". But.. but. Wouldn't it be comforting to have a song book, or special oils, candles to light, the comforts of the religious rituals we embrace? And I would guess that all of us who are spiritual do have rituals, even if they aren't formalized or acknowledged as such.

I remember someone once blogging about what they needed to grow or raise in order to be able to eat a traditional American Thanksgiving Dinner in a post peak-oil world. I love the world I live in. But I don't believe we'll always live this way, just as no civilization ever continued on forever.

Change is in the air. I'm hoping we all are able to network, to learn, to be ready, to be the brave who carry traditions forward in the face of adversity if adverse times come to pass.

My challenge for myself is this:

• examine what my tangible goods religious needs are
• decide which elements of those needs are things I do for myself and which I out-source
• determine if it is reasonable to learn how to do some of the things I currently spend money for someone else to do
• stock up on supplies of those things I feel I can't/won't be able to make and can't/won't want to be without

I figure a year or two worth of 'stuff' (such as incense charcoal) would see me through any sudden societal change, and give me the time to learn how to make my own or adapt my spiritual practices to what I had available. If the other people in my faith community were to do likewise, we would have enough to meet our needs with plenty left to share with others.

Spring's the Thing

We had a few days of glorious weather, sunny and almost too warm. Now we are having a spell of windy chilly weather with intermittent rain. I am glad that I haven't ignored the 'average last frost date' data this year and planted anyway in the delusional belief that my fervent wishing for summer will keep the last of the chilly spring weather away!

The seed starts are coming along nicely and I should be able to move things into my unheated greenhouse before long.

The unexpected garden challenge this spring is the addition to our family of a lovely dog. Who loves to dash about the yard with abandon and who would take digging in the dirt as an invitation to dig right along with me. I will need to devise a fencing scheme that keeps her out, lets me in, and doesn't look ugly. I'm not asking for much, lol!

The valerian, columbine and chocolate mint I planted last year have all come back up this spring. The valerian and columbine I started from seed, so those are especially gratifying. The mint I planted into a spot where if it spreads it won't cause problems, and I'm really hoping it spreads wildly because it is a delicious mint.

My raspberries, mugwort, chives, thyme, tarragon have all emerged from their long sleep; and the who-knows-where-they-came-from Johnny Jump-ups in the garden are blooming madly. I see my scheme to let the borage go to seed and thus never buy borage again has worked, as there are a plethora of little fuzzy baby borage plants emerging as well. Roses are putting out leaves, and a few of the iris have lovely green leaves.

I didn't plant the iris. They were already here, victims of being seeded over with grass at some point. I've tried to rescue them, but have had limited success (and only a couple of blossoms). I'm going to relocate the ones that have survived in one last effort at saving them.

I need to prune the sage and see how well the lemon balm is coming up.

So much to do, so little time!