The Scene 10:15 am Sunday:
Two Sleep deprived High Schoolers raging with hormones, one awaiting college rejection letters (she fears) and the other furious and out of control after having been woken by very-loud least-favorite music and an enthusiastic, wet, freshly bathed corgi pup (25 lbs) with sharp claws unleashed from the toweling area.
The motivation to make my (rented) and desolate deed path strewn patch of scrubby oaks look like the above, a field of color all around the house, from measly property line to property line (which I had to pay two gad-abouts $280 to rake up the leaves, twigs and dispose of them, and stack the two cords of wood I had been working on stacking having already paid for a $50 video game for the privilege of so doing). A soft hand to scatter seeds (I wish I hand sand to mix with them) and a broad chalkboard to envision this beauty.
The ability to fall asleep every night (when I could) to seek eagerly the tender shoots -- signalling the promise of a day without tears.
Strong muscles. Metal Rake. The ability to touch dirt, cooperate, speak without throwing kinves (even sheathed) and not having a tempertantrum (seriously the video would go viral) of a 14 year old forcibly having the xBox removed -- knocking down all in his enormous 300 pound furious gorilla's path.
Bruises, bumps, an 8" x 4" circular dent/hole in the wall who thankfully yielded a large enough chip to be color matched. Hurt feelings, and lots of tears (not the heman kind, certainly). Three people locked in three rooms after much yellling. Despair. A desire to make beautiful that which is terrifying.