This morning as I was tinkering around, emptying and cutting up egg cartons, I realized that like my father’s odd projects if any of my kids were around they would wonder as I did with him on those early Saturday mornings why he did the odd things he did. At the time they seemed so odd to me. He could have been reading or sleeping, but he just loved fusseling around some pet project on the workbench in the basement or setting up little trays of seedlings bought at Uncle Bill’s or Forest City, just puttering around. Not now. Now I find myself doing the same things he did…setting out those little 3 @ a dollar seeds from the Dollar Store in cut up egg cartons, putting the seedlings into bowls of warm water the night before. Thinking little Mary prayers of food for healthy babies and thanking these tiny seedlings for the hard work they’re going to do just growing here and sustaining a few human souls. Hmmm…and I thought my Dad was odd?
Now I understand. He was just making himself happy. Doing what came naturally to that wonderful soul. Making himself happy, nourishing and being thankful.
Now, that’s how to live.
Photographs (of prints) Google source: Life Archives