I woke up yesterday and decided that I should plant 400 bulbs to make myself feel better. I needed to feel better.

I planted daffodils. Red and yellow tulips. Two frothy blue flowers.

And crocuses. I love crocuses because when they pop up I know that winter is ending.

It was me and the dirt and the sun and my 400 bulbs.

I planted most of them in the backyard as I’ve added a ton of dirt to a newly cut border.

This summer gardening fever hit hard, the Garden Nerd in me cackled her way out, and I bought a red camellia, two magnolia trees (one died. Waaaa!), blue delphinium, soft pink hydrangeas, a cherry tree, and a bunch of flowering plants that I bought on the side of the road in the country for three bucks.

I didn’t know what they were, I bought them anyhow. Mystery plants.

Gardening takes my stress away. There is something about being covered in dirt, digging a hole with a shovel, and planting something that you know will grow that is soothing and comforting.

Gardening makes my life better, and so often I cannot make anything better.

Sometimes my problems can be fixed, resolved, eliminated, healed.

And sometimes it’s just a matter of living with them the best I can.

Sometimes I cannot write. I don’t have writer’s block exactly, but the words on the page are such crap I wonder why I don’t quit. Or I can’t get a character to move. Or I’m burned out and frazzled.

Sometimes life gets too stressful. Stressful enough that getting enough air down my lungs becomes a challenge. Negative enough to make me want to move to Montana and call it a day.

But a garden…now I can make that better. I can fix it.

In an hour, weeds can be picked and an area that wasn’t pretty is now pretty.

In half a day pots can be filled with geraniums, Alyssum, petunias, impatiens.

In a full day a new border can be dug, dirt dumped, arching trees and purple butterfly bushes added.

I can see improvement. I can take something dull and brown and fill it with delicate fuchsias, spiky ferns, and a gentle red rose.

I have so much more work to do in my garden, in my tiny patch of Earth. In fact, on the left side of my house I simply dumped part of a dump truck full of bark dust down to smother those incessant, pesky weeds.

But one day I want to build a patio and trellis so I can watch the sunset because I truly think that sunsets are a daily, shining gift and I too often miss out on that gift.

One day I want to cut out a curving design in the center of my grass so I can plant a pink tulip tree and add purple sage, blazing stars, hostas, and black eyed Susans.

One day I want to transform a stark corner with a wire fence around it into a book reading area.

But, for now, I’m delighted.

I have planted 400 bulbs.

I cannot wait for spring so I can see them again