And now for something completely different: gardening!

The thing is that I lived my whole life in city apartments with small balconies with flower pots and window-boxes, so here I got excited when I saw that we have a backyard garden. A very odd-shaped one, full of ivy and pine trees, but beyond doubt – a garden. So I decided to designate a small area for cultivating vegetables.
It’s lame, everyone gravitates toward gardening or baking in the quarantine, and ours is not even a real quarantine (only the groceries, food stores, and pharmacies can keep open, there is a dead-end to arrive home in the evening, and masks, of course, are mandatory everywhere, where we can meet other people – we neither had a full lockdown last year.
But is it actually that lame? We are trying to grow some resilience.  We are trying to be present, to be here, to do something that doesn’t have to be something big, martial and mighty, something burgeoning labeled, and often mislabeled as development - just what we can call a life. Accountability, presence, resilience, the feeling when you can tell you did the next right thing – these are the feelings we are now looking for.
This feeling motivates the ’plant-moms’ (I also have some plants inside the house, even some chili bushels), the makeshift bakers, the neophyte Yogis and Yoginis, the ’yeast farmers’ or those who began to keep pets in this era of overall wobbliness.
But also the ones who woke up as info centers, amateur virologists, pandemic-policemen, and overly realist doomscrollers, which is a less effective and more harmful and extrinsic way to cope. That could be a new post, and I don’t really want to mix this here because I just wanted to meditate on the further connotations of this gardening-phenomenon.
Note to self: I wanted a garden before this pandemic too:)