Perhaps I’ve become a little obsessed. I’m willing to admit that this is a distinct possibility. If someone had suggested it a few weeks ago, I would have laughed them off. But yes…I have indeed become a gardening addict. I can’t help myself. Even in my sleep, vegetables have started to pop up everywhere.
A few nights ago I dreamed that my son’s bedroom had been entirely rebuilt in Murray’s back yard. It was complete with a crib, his name on the wall (even though there was no wall, but hey, it’s my dream so deal with it), a rocker in the corner of the yard, and to my delight, a carpet made up entirely of purslane. That’s right. Purslane. The edible weed I can’t stop talking about. I remember stepping ever so carefully through it all as I tip-toed over to the crib so I would crush as little of it as possible in case we wanted a salad for dinner later.
“Oh man,” I thought when I woke up the next morning. “That is so over the top.”
Yesterday, Joce and Ann came up to help me weed in the plots. It needed it badly because, you know, it had been a whole week. Oh, those weeds. That’s a whole new post entirely. But needless to say I’m ever-so-grateful that no one else was around. Our humor when the three of us are together is, at best, at a very immature Jr. High level. We were in so many hysterics in fact that I, distracted while pulling out a potato plants to harvest part of our dinner, went flying back out of the potato bed when the plant came free and landed smack on top of one of my yellow crook-neck squash plants tush-first. In spite of the fact that I landed with my feet completely in the air and gashed my arm open (all right, there is a SLIGHT abrasion on my arm from squash thorns, but it REALLY stings a lot) and the fact that I had clearly almost died, Joce and Ann just laughed at me. I mean really, with friends like this, who needs enemies?
The entire event must have affected me more deeply than I realized because last night, after falling exhausted and positively stuffed with food into bed, I dreamed this little gem:
I was direly ill and in need of spleen surgery. My family were convinced that I was faking but all my doctors felt that, indeed, my spleen needed to come out. They showed me x-rays and test results, and finally I went under the knife. It turned out that my spleen was actually perfectly healthy. A perfectly healthy yellow crook-necked squash, that is. Yup. My organs are now vegetables in my sleep.
So, this afternoon, with a cold coming on, my son taking a late nap, and the house relatively quiet I think instead of fretting about when to make a mad dash out to the plots today I will change my routine by putting on a pot of soup and take a nap and just dream about more veggies instead.