The Magic of Sunlight and Wee Beans

We belatedly welcome spring to New England as finally the snow has ceased and we are teased with the occasional 50 degree days that have many, including myself, staring longingly out at their neglected yards, trowel and confused tulips in hand.

With our first home my mind is filled with plans for our yard, our first property we can do whatever we'd like to, a blank canvas of dirt and plant matter. Luckily, I am armed with parents who make their livings being elbow deep in earth, and will not end up on a DIY disaster program saying "I just don't know what went wrong." I am excited to see what kind of art they will help us make on our half acre of homeland. See, my mom has this super power where she can look at a plant that looks half dead from winter hibernation and can see it in it's full glory in her mind. She literally paints with flowers when there are none to be seen. She paints in potential. Seriously how awesome is that? My dad likewise has a superhuman ability to deconstruct something down to it's parts and rebuild it. He's helping us construct a fence so my son doesn't gleefully throw himself into the 4ft oblivion that is the drop off at the back of our property. He had me pick a fence. Like, just a photo of any kind of fence we liked, and pulled it apart with his mind, reconstructed it, and wrote out a shopping list. They're magic I tell you, magic.

So I am terribly excited because I have their immense skill at hand for what is going to be our first true renovation of OUR home. My mind loves projects, and so I have had little time to give any residence to my depression, which has been a nice reprieve. Since my folks are bringing the skills to the table (to teach, mind you. Life skills man, life skills.) it's left my imagination to roam free. This is a dangerous thing for a geekmom like myself.

The result has been a fixation on a children's garden for my son. I have always had a dream of infusing wonder into my kid's lives in a fantastical way, and this garden is just the first in that quest. Butterfly bushes, fruit bearing plants, fairy homes, wind chimes, bird feeders and even cheeky gnomes are but part of my grand design. But then Pintrest got involved and that broad is bad influence.

So the center piece of my child's garden is going to be : a hobbit hole. Geeky, playful, beautiful. And the best part? Totally doable. We have a hill that has been foiling my planning in our yard, but would be perfect for tucking the perfect playhouse into. Apparently all we need is a good sized dog house and a facade with a round front door. Landscape around and atop it and viola- Hobbit Hole. There must be a garden, a gate and a wee little mailbox as well. I. Cannot.Wait. I will have to chase my adult friends out of it on a regular basis. One may try and live there.

I am also plotting out my veggie garden, my second summer's worth. I have found an immense peace in growing things. It's a similar joy to watching m son, in knowing you are nurturing something other than yourself, and when they thrive is like lighting a fire in your own well being. I've been teaching my boyo about growing things, and he happily helped sow seeds in started pots an exuberantly watered. The Easter Bunny brought him gardening tools and a gnome for his garden.

So now two of us watch wide eyed as green pokes temptingly from our yard, and await when that winter's chill finally vanishes from the air and the dirt and joy can fly.