Let it Grow!!!

We are enjoying fresh tomatoes this year!!! They taste so much better than the ones from the store.....I don't think I can eat "store bought" tomatoes anymore. Marko is learning how to garden this year. The pictures above are of his tomato plants. My dad bought him some potted plants this year after Marko expressed interest in gardening and Marko has done a great job with them. He is also growing peppers and beans. :) I hope you enjoy the quote below!!! Namaste, Michele

Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen: reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in. This is how we are going to live for a long time: not always, for every gardener knows that after the digging, after the planting, after the long season of tending and growth, the harvest comes.
-Marge Piercy

believe

Here is another view from our dining room table.
and below is a quote in honor of Nurse's week.....this week.
Actually, tomorrow is National Nurses' day.
I feel so grateful to be able to be a nurse.
I have gone through many stages in this career....lots of ups and downs.
But I truly can say that this is a career path that I was meant to follow.
I come home so many days with so much gratitude for my job...and being able to connect with the people that I connect with. It is truly a very sacred job for me..... so in honor of Nurses' week, I am posting this beautiful poem.
Namaste,
Michele

To be of use
by Marge Piercy


The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who stand in the line and haul in their places,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.