Tales from the unlikely homesteader 2…

Growing up Mother’s Day was a big day for my mother and her mother, Nana.

Oh, there were corsages, gifts, getting dressed up, and dinner out. That was when I was little.

As I got older the corsages were no longer a thing. My father would buy two gifts for my mother, one from him and one from me.

Eventually. the second gift he bought came from me and the other child they adopted. It was always jewelry I think.

My father never gave my mother a Mother’s Day card so I had to make one every year.

Eileen would always ask my father the same question every year as to why he didn’t give her a card.

My father’s answer was simple, “Because you aren’t my mother.”

As I got older and had a job I told my father I could buy my own Mother’s Day gift for my mother.

All of my gifts were never right if they weren’t jewelry or the right kind of jewelry.

That’s how all the gifts I ever gave her were received. Wrong. Believe it or not my mother-in-law was the same way!

When I became a mother I had a simple wish, I wanted to go to a nursery and buy some flowers to plant.

As a stay at home mom, I was with our kids 24/7. I needed a break sometimes but never asked for one.

My desire on Mother’s Day was always the same, go to a nursery to get flowers and have Marty “babysit” the boys.

Now I think it’s ridiculous I felt like I to ask him to babysit his own children!

Back then, I felt that since I wasn’t working a real job, I didn’t deserve time alone. The kids were my responsibility 100% of the time. That was my job.

I know now that kind of thinking was fucked up.

It was a branch off the “I’m not worthy tree” I experienced growing up, always having to be perfect and be a good servant since after all, my parents adopted me.

I owed it to them. I owed it to Marty. I definitely felt like I wasn’t worthy to have anything I truly desired, even if it was an hour or two here or there.

My mother is the one who made me feel and treated me that way and used that in all of her guilt trips and manipulation until she died.

The branch growing off that “I’m not worthy tree” was that I felt guilty doing anything for myself since Marty was the bread winner so I could stay home and raise out boys.

I did get my wish to buy and plant flowers. It rained on many of those Mother’s Days. I didn’t care I would be outside for 2 or 3 hours with a raincoat on planting my flowers.

I was able to breathe while I was planting the flowers. It was my time of zen and joy. I throughly enjoyed that time alone.

I always planted petunias because they are one of my favorite flowers. I loved dead heading the spent blooms every night while sipping wine.

I took very good care of my flowers every year. They made me smile and made the outside of our home beautiful.

I haven’t done the planting flowers on Mother’s Day thing since the kids grew up.

Yes, I always plant flowers in the springtime but not on any one particular day anymore.

I didn’t think about that until today. I had mixed feeling about it. Sad, relieved, nostalgic, and bittersweet feelings.

As for my petunias this year, I started my own from seeds and they are better and bigger than any I ever purchased from a nursery! Yay!

However, nothing will ever beat those petunia hanging basket I had a few years ago. They were amazing.

Marty didn’t like them because they blocked his view from the front porch. Everyone loved them almost as much as I did.

This story is about me being the unlikely homesteader in a very Irish storyteller way again.

My first story was when Sam told me the piece wasn’t really about gardening. Oh, but it was my man-child.

Each of these stories in this series will keep explaining how I got to where I am today.

What started when the kids were little as an idea to get a little me time and beautify our home turned into something that I cherished each year.

It was so nice having some quiet and peaceful time but now I realize how much I enjoyed having my hands in the earth.

I loved watching my flowers grow. It wasn’t a task to take of them like all the other things I did.

I found it to be like a ritual to me during the spring and summer. Then the first frost would come and it was all over until the following year.

When I was ill with my lung disease two years ago, I wanted to start doing things that brought joy to my life.

I could have chosen anything, but the first thing I thought of was gardening.

This year I’ve spent hours and hours by myself starting seeds and all the other things that go with growing your own garden plants and flowers from scratch.

My favorite time is in the greenhouse or the garden. I get the same feelings I had while planting my flowers on all of those Mother’s Day’s.

I never would have imagined that I would be a real gardener and not just a mom who liked planting flowers and got a little time off.

Everyday I can’t wait to get out there and explore and check up on everything outside.

It’s become a ritual for me that I don’t have to wait for only once a year. It’s my life now.

Today, I decided I am going to plant some of my flowers again on Sunday, Mother’s Day and bring that tradition back. ☺️