Gardens and Grandmothers

I don't know if I should feel guilty about not writing a blog for a while but I do. I had loads of time this past weekend having taking Friday through Tuesday off. However I didn't get around to writing a blog. I had a great weekend in Kelowna. I went to my Grandparent's house which is always a treat. I arrived to find, unsurprisingly, my Grandpa sitting in a chair reading and even less surprising my Grandma out in the garden.
My Grandparents have a lovely house, situated a block from the beach and overlooking the lake. It also has a huge garden. My Grandma loves gardening and I'm sure it at least partly explains how she is still so lively at her age, somewhere in her early eighties.
I went out to give my grandma a hand clearing out raspberry bushes. She has tons of them and they spread like weeds so she wanted to take some out to help keep her garden looking neat. With a stronger grip, I was better at cutting through the thick stalks but other than that I felt like more of a hindrance than a help. At least by now I know that "just a few more minutes" means about an hour and a half before we go inside. My grandma has a consistent habit of going out to do one little thing, say turn the sprinkler on, and then get distracted by something else and then something else and come in three hours later to her forgotten cup of tea, stone cold.
Although I am not a fan of work generally speaking, there is something nice about working in the garden. The earth is real, alive. There are worms breaking up the soil. There are plants, each one different and interesting. The raspberry bushes with delicious berries just asking to be eaten. Bees fly from flower to flower. It's a partnership with God. A little bit of planting, weeding, watering and then a garden springs up. Life, on countless levels. Plants and soil and insects and birds and humans sharing the same space. Symbiosis of beauty and life, and nourishment. Of course I prefer reading a book to weeding.