My Happy Hippy Saturday
This Saturday I sat at the kitchen table early in the morning with my Bible. I found myself reading through the book of Job. It is never a good thing when you get to that place where you read through the book of Job. I suppose I was looking for comfort in someone suffering more than me. Instead I found my comfort in the fact that God loves me and knows the "why" of suffering and I do not. End of story.I think my sweet husband took it as a warning sign that I was in some sort of crisis mode. He brewed me some strong coffee, made me a gluten free chocolate cake, and told me to go out on an outing.( Reason 7,983,006 why I love this man!!!)So I went.I have been wanting to plant a garden and have just the spot, but sadly, have not inherited the throbbing green thumb that both my mother and mother-in-law possess and my very practical family stares at me like I am a silly dreamer when I refer to "my garden" as if it exists in some utopian parallel universe. It is the same way they stare at me when I tell them I am going to write books someday. But that is ok. I dream on about gardens and book and the likes. (I just warn them that they will not reap any benefits from the harvest of my garden or the proceeds of my book success.)So my therapeutic outing began and looked like this. I headed to the Gardening Mecca of Austin, The Natural Gardener. This place was fabulous and overwhelming all at the same time and I felt very out 
of place but willing to learn. The guru behind the counter intimidated me with her "nature knowledge" so I politely moved on pretending to browse through things I had no idea existed. Then a quirky, smelly, hippy man broke it down for me. "Get some dirt, some seeds, water it, it's all good." He did talk me into saving a few bucks and bagging my own compost! Wait... What?..... I found myself in my wedge flip flops and rolled up jeans with a shovel and a bucket in a compost heap!! I thought to take a selfie for the blog but it seemed so not hippy and I feared someone might see me and laugh at the poor "green gardening girl from the north side." so I just committed the experience to memory which is sometimes better. I brought home my compost and my seeds and my sweet skeptical family helped me plant my first ever vegetable garden. (By help I mean the Bubbas threw dirt at each other and the Tween watched me.) Perhaps I will share with them after all.My Happy Hippy Saturday did not end there. I made a stop at my favorite and familiar food Mecca, Whole Foods. I have been juicing fresh fruits and vegetables for my family so I stopped in to stock up. I even bought Turmeric root for the first time
in my life. Moments like this exhilarate me! Like when I bought Diakon root for the first time or ate Chard!!!! I don't know why. Possibly because my life can get so rote, so mundane and these are the secret little pleasures that I wish I had time to indulge in all the time, catering to my happy hippy alter ego who home schools and never eats processed foods ever. Did I mention I am a bit of a dreamer?
But for a a few hours anyway my dreams were ablaze and my soul was engaged in an exciting journey right here in my beloved Austin. My mind and my heart were full and thinking of nothing else but compost and culinary delights. Sounds funny I know, but sometimes we need a break from the mundane, the rat race and the cares of this world. We need a step back and a deep breath, even a nice distraction of sorts. I thought about the diverse and beautiful plants at the nursery, the colorful food in the produce isle and the fabulous Austinites I encountered and thanked God for it all, for the day's adventure and for His grace and goodness. I returned home, a little more relaxed, burdens shed, ready to plant these seeds and juice these veggies trusting God with the rest. I don't think my family understood the value of my Happy Hippy Saturday, but rest assured they will benefit from it in more ways than one." Happy Wife, Happy Life!"Job 42:12,17 The Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part. After this, Job lived a hundred and forty years; he saw his children and their children to the fourth generation. And so Job died, an old man and full of years.