I pulled everything from our two big garden beds. It's time for new things to grow; it's time for a fresh start.
My middle son doesn't like when I pull things from the ground or when I cut branches from the trees. He tells me enthusiastically:
Mom, they want to live!! And then they will be happy! Maybe his way of thinking makes you laugh, as it does for me, and yet, I really do admire his love for everything alive and growing.
A part of me didn't want to pull the lettuce that was forming seeds, not so much because I wanted to save the seeds for next year, more so because they're doing what they were made to do. That plant was fulfilling the measure of its creation, making new seeds for new plants to grow. Nature confirms to me daily that God exists.
The boys love to "help" in the garden. I am currently reading the book
How do you Tuck in a Superhero?, by Rachel Balducci. It's a woman's stories and experience of raising five sons. And I now have proof that digging in the dirt is an inborn trait that the male species carries. I bet you can't guess what my three boys are doing at this very minute? Yes. Seriously. They are digging.
