Thursday, April 5, 2012

Well begun is half done

Dear Saints Augustine and Claire, look down upon this blog. Bless its readers and its author. Protect it from trite quarrels, useless gossip, and poor grammar. May it be inspiring, helpful, and well written. Amen.

This is the blog of a twenty-something university student with the best student job and a bad commute. I am poor, nerdy, and live at home as the oldest of six children. All my siblings also live at home. It is a full house.

My jobs are to study (for which I pay too much), bake (for which I am paid barely enough), and help out with the family and clean my room (for which I am paid nothing, but am supposed to gain peace as I go along). I study Jujitsu and Pinterest. I write or read all the time, unless I have an assignment involving either activity for a class.

I am in a love-hate relationship with my current environment; Houston, Texas and the surrounding area. Today, we're ok. The weather is beautiful and I'm at home for the Easter break. Today, I am free to run around our yard, search the plum tree for plums, plant random things, and untangle our fig tree from its "protective" netting.

This is the first year the plum tree has born anymore than a couple of fruit. There are twelve green globes each the size of my thumb nail. Twelve! The birds may have a field day once they ripen, but they'll have to race me to get to the fruit.

I've planted a loquat seed in a little plastic pot. I picked up the seed from the side walk on the way home from school. In nearly every neighborhood in Houston, there is at least one loquat tree, and they are all bearing the most fragrant orange fruit. My university is nearly surrounded. My own little seed will take 8 to 10 years before it bears any fruit of its own. I'll be thirty. I have something new  to look forward to.

We have two fig trees: one from my maternal grandmother and one from my paternal grandmother. The fig from the paternal side is little and barren, refusing to send out new shoots. The fig from my mother's side is huge- a little bigger than a Smart car- and sending out new shoots like crazy. Every year, we cover it in a net to protect its yield from the birds. It is sending new shoots through the net. I spent half an hour this afternoon folding leaves the size of tea saucers and pulling them back through holes the size of nickles. Many leaves I can't reach, or the stems have already grown too thick and stiff to be pulled back. Dad and I are going to have a fun time getting the net off once the season is over, but at least we won't have to race the birds.

I am eagerly awaiting the progression of the season, enjoying the days before the air is too hot, and happy. I have so much to do with my hands and my head, so much that I can give and so much that I can make. This beautiful has made me so aware of that fact that it makes it hard for me to settle down and do any of those things.
I have sewing projects, cooking projects, gardening projects, craft projects (school projects, that I would rather not think about), and writing projects. The days are full. But I hate to cram things I love. I want to do, not be done.
So, here I go! Off my butt and off my mom's pc to do something worth doing.


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