Look who suckered Mom into planting flowers today?
That is not what I went to Wal-Mart for. I was actually browsing for cilantro plants, also not what I went to Wal-Mart for, and the selection was sad and frail. Someone broke out the "Please, Mommy" and I left with more than the potting soil I planned to grab to re-pot AJ's sunflower seedlings from her first grade classroom.
Here we are planting Cosmos that we just hope aren't doomed. Why are we trying this again? What did I smoke today?
She looks awfully cute shoveling potting mix, doesn't she?
We tossed the remainder of our potting mix into a barren flower bed and scattered our leftover seeds there.
Here are our re-homed sunflower seedlings just before I moved them to a sunnier spot. I hold out hope that I can stop killing things. We'll see.
I got randomly sucked into a reality TV series recently, which is really not like me. Dumb reality shows tend to make me roll my eyes, and even "good" ones tend to be too cheesy or staged for me to stay with for long. This weird series (okay, it was Marriage Boot Camp: Reality Stars if you must know) threw me hard into the re-realization of how. much. relational dysfunction is really in the world. Far from giving me a feeling of self-righteousness, it reminded me how easy it is to find yourself floundering in an ocean of immature and toxic characters and lifestyles if you aren't grounded in the presence of people who have good goals and healthy boundaries. And for many people, those toxic circles feel impossible to escape because once there you can't see how bad it really is or how far you need to remove yourself to escape it. Your vibe so attracts your tribe. And your tribe so matters.
In unrelated news, I picked up a new-to-me book last week - Black Like Me - all about a white journalist's immersion into black culture in 1959 through a process of darkening his skin via medication and stain. This specific perspective is rare if not unheard-of aside from his specific project. The process of having lived as both black and white (however impossible it would be for a person to fully experience life as a different race than their own - and I freely acknowledge that it is not in fact entirely possible) allowed John Howard Griffin to offer a voice that was obviously unique in his time within predominantly white circles. It was a revealing and candid look into racial inequalities in the south during the late 20th century. His accounts of patronizing tolerance painted as non-racism were so well-stated, and I would love to hear the perspectives of others who have read this book. There are a vast number of topics covered in this book that are so worthy of discussion. Book club, anyone?
Our sweet neighbor brought us a delicious-looking dinner and I'm off to enjoy it. Thanks for reading, friends. And happy Monday to you. <3