AS I write this, I’m on my 26th day of staying at home. In the first two weeks, I still walked to my mom’s house every day, just to visit and grab something to eat. We’re in the same subdivision. But with the enhanced community quarantine, I opted to just stay put and imagine I’m like everyone else.
I had a backlog of writing to do, so that wasn’t much of a bother. But by the second week, my writing backlog has dwindled, and there was but two left, which I wasn’t feeling enthusiastic about. There were our daily group and individual distant healing of Cov-d-19 patients as pranic healers, which kept me engaged as well. There was little time left after the meditations and healing sessions and the feeble attempts to write. But, it’s not that enjoying, and so I find joy in watching my plants grow.
I’m a frustrated gardener. I love plants and planting, the plants are not as receptive. But I’m not giving up.
The days spent at home are spent looking at my seedlings, rejoicing as yet another tiny leaf sprouts. I’ve never watched plants grow this much, and I never thought I’d enjoy watching them. Pathetic, right. But try being so helpless tending to a garden, PTV’s Rhoda even ridiculed me that my tanglad only had five scraggly leaves. Tanglad or lemongrass is a grass and should have no problem growing even when untended, she laughed. My tanglad disagreed. It has long died, by the way, long before I transferred to this house.
The seven past days I was watching squash seedlings grow as my dahon sibuyas were going the way my tanglad plant was. But yesterday, my sibuyas looked healthier and added two young tiny leaves. There are six of them, by the way, so only two got new leaves. Still, they’re new leaves. A reason to rejoice.
Today, I smiled as I picked out the dried seeds of a tomato I ate two days before. I’m hoping they will grow.
My hopes are up because the forced confinement has made me venture into making my kitchen scraps compost pile and dog poo compost pile. Separate, of course, to ensure that the dog poo is processed to sod before they will even be mixed with the other pile. With my compost looking well and smelling like good earth, I have high hopes that my plants will be a bit healthier than my usual plants pre-Covid.
My main source of joy is my native oregano (kalabo), they’re bushy and healthy. I find hope in them and am assured that I will have something to offer if anyone needs cough relief. My kalabo makes my day, every day.
If I sound like I’m rambling, I am. That’s what you tend to do when you have been talking to yourself and your cats and dog and two stray cats the past 26 days. But it’s rambling that’s worth writing down because there will come the day when I will read back and smile at the little things that have kept me company and caused me joy.
In these 26 days, and I’m sure in the coming days until this quarantine is lifted, the joy in little things will grow and it will take a lifetime before they will be forgotten. I am happy we were forced to retreat.
saestremera@gmail.com