I realized the other day that I should be responsible for approximately 10 square feet of the world. I think I could handle that though right now I would be hardpressed to locate 2 square feet in my home, yard, or car that I am responsible for that would make anyone think I should be in charge of more space.

Perhaps it is just the typical procrastinating going on now that the galleys for the Insiders’ Guide to Richmond were emailed to me the other day by my editor and I have until Tuesday to get them back in perfect order, that I feel the desire to bring perfect order to very small bits of my universe.  It suddenly seemed important to buy the equipment to wash every window in our house, clean out my grody car, and transplant every daylily on the property. It never seems important enough to tame the paper tiger that rampages around in my office. In fact, until I finish re-reading my manuscript, there won’t be time to do any of those jobs that seem appealing only when I am tied to a computer and completely unable to attempt them.

I never caught on to that square foot gardening craze–perhaps because I have a large yard and think in terms of large swaths of plants and larger swaths of weeds usually, but this year there is one tiny little bed of flowers in my backyard that gives me a feeling of ahhhh rather than ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!. It’s not exactly Southern Living material, but it’s a sweet little spot–emphasis on little. Some artemisia, vinca, caladium, hosta, sedum, and perhaps more mulch than is a good idea, judging by this photo, hang out under a redbud. 

sweet yet sad

No doubt, it’s less than 10 square feet, but it’s a start. If only it could be a finish.  But there are compacted clay areas to revive and a creek to line with spiderwort and daylillies, and ivy overtaking everything. Perhaps I need a grid–10 square feet at a time.