I woke up with my hands still hurting and the paper said it was going to be hot, so we put off clearing the brush. It will still be there tomorrow, after all.
April and May are difficult months for me. My much beloved sister died in April and my father in May. Dad loved the outdoors and took us camping every summer of my childhood. Roz came to visit and we did a lot of work in the gardens together. So when I am outside and spring is making this place just burst with color and glorious scents ( sort of like jasmine or gardenias, I don't know what it is, but it is intoxicating), I picture how much my father would have loved it and remember everything Roz helped me with on her visits.
We went into town to buy the things I need to make a memorial to my sister. I want to put a bench to sit on out in the orchard. I have this vision of a brick area with a trellis/gazebo over it. My brother Roland told me about Pinky Winky Hydrangeas. Roz had a nickname of Pinky, so I want to plant one or two of those by the bench. I think it will be pretty. Roz lived in Japan for a year and her husband was Japanese-American, so I want to give it a Japanese feel if I can.
My next job is to dig the area level. It has a slight slope to it. I say slight because I haven't started to dig it, yet. I have the 4X4s, the sand and the brick to get started. I'll worry about the bench and the cover later. Then I will get a plaque of some sort.
Yesterday I was unloading the sand and brick and placing them where I wanted to start building. I looked around and stopped to "talk" to Roz. I wanted her to see what I was doing and I thought she would like the idea. I started to cry and took a deep breath. I hate to cry. On my inhale I sucked in a bug. It hit the back of my throat and I couldn't get it out. I hacked and coughed and spit and finally swallowed the critter. I could feel it scratch all the way down. Gross.
But I stopped crying and started to laugh at myself. This big dramatic moment dedicated to my sister and I am bending over and spitting. Maybe she threw the bug at me. It is something I can picture her doing. She never would let me cry around her. She felt bad that her passing was making me so sad. So now I have the cure for grief. Suck up a bug. Too bad it is temporary.