i decided today that i am a person who likes to use my hands. and it isn't just with obvious things like painting or playing the guitar or knitting. i like to build things. clean things. garden, etc.
i was outside with the boys, watching them load their dumptruck up with red dirt, when my attention wandered to the rows of tomatoes, yams, and peppers my dad has got growing on the terraced back yard. i love gardens, especially vegetable gardens (because they have more of a point than flowers) but it annoys me to see them choked with weeds and full of deadwood. i distractedly started pulling up some crab grass from around a habanero plant. then i kept going. soon i was pouring sweat and covered in red dirt, grunting and grimacing as i dug, pulled, and hoed the dirt around my dad's plants.
art came outside, asked me if i was having fun, and the answer was a very emphatic YES. i love this sort of thing. i love to feel the dirt cool the deeper i dig. i love the way a clean, well-kept garden looks. i like working in the sun without all the annoying humidity, and then taking a break under the cool shade of a tree. it's great.
after that i raked the grass.
then i pulled all the weeds out of the little rock path that leads from the house.
then i cleaned the kitchen, which isn't as fun mostly because it's something you have to do about eight times a day with my dad around. he is the messiest kitchen person alive, i'm convinced.
now i'm sitting in a cool room, drinking mexican beer and enjoying the sounds of the birds and bugs and trying to figure out how long it takes for the orange dirt-stain to get off my calloused and sore work-happy hands. i love it here!