Today I went to the garden store to cruise plants. It's a bit pornographic, the way I behave. Or maybe I  have bee tendencies but I'm looking for colors and smells and curvy figures.  There were birds chirping and I thought they were playing some bird chirping audio but no. There by the cash register was a large round stainless feeding trough hung with a warming light and a bunch of baby chicks on bedding inside. They'd just come in the mail (!) from Kansas. The box with holes in it was still on the floor. They were hungry and thirsty, stepping on each other and falling into the water. The gal in the store said she could hear them at the post office ( I bet!). Anyway, I hung over their enclosure and watched. So soft and fluffy and weighing practically nothing. Gladdened my mood.

I bought starts and seeds and headed for my p-patch, the city's answer to those of us who need gardening space. They provide water and tools and a small plot of fertile earth.  I have learned so much from my SE Asian neighbors about how to intensively garden. They grow around and among different plants. Vines grow up corn stalks. Smaller plants grow among larger ones. And they have veggies all year round.

My strawberries were looking healthy and so were the weeds, which I pulled out. I planted spinach and lettuce. I like that spot for squash because it takes so much room to grow. The beds by my house have peas and beets and beans and more lettuce. I'm so glad to be able to walk out and harvest food from my yard.

My yard right now

The back yard just got the walkway and now it's time to fill in with more plants. My friend who has been helping with the heavy lifting says I should feel glad to come home and see my garden. And I do. 

I'm all up in being a student, y'all. I'm studying dharma books and instantly forgetting what I've read. I give my first 'talk' this Sunday and I just might disregard my notes and speak from my heart. Yikes. I could talk for hours about midwifery; history, efficacy, shortcomings, data, etc etc but dharma is...different.  Feels more important to be authentic and of course I can't talk about what I haven't experienced. And that's the truth. 

So wish me well. The topic is racism and American Buddhism. In 15 minutes. No problem. Ha!

Cold but daffodils and cherry blossoms. Had a salad of collard greens from last years garden. My friend Casey is in Uganda with MSF, helping support Somali refugees. Such suffering in this world. The cycle is endlessly repeating.

Danced with my dear fellow dancers this morning. Generation of joy essential in troubled times. Went to a gallery with a buddy yesterday-all artists responding to the Trump regime. My favorite: The Trump sandwich-white bread, baloney, I.C.E. berg lettuce with American cheese and a small pickle.

Got my taxes and fell on the floor. I owe a massive amount. And a miracle happened. I didn't have a panic attack. I didn't lose sleep. I didn't become completely unhinged. I stayed calm. I knew it would be ok, somehow. Because it will be ok. In the grand scheme, it's a minor thang. Soon enough, I won't own the business anymore, my income will drop precipitously and I'll be living on a tight budget and it 's all ok. It really is. The eight worldly winds. Can't avoid 'em. Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and pain, fame and ill-repute.

Be well. Take heart.