Cross Quarters
Aug. 3rd, 2021 03:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormOn the one hand, the conventional pagan calendar was formed in a very different place and agricultural system.
On the other hand, I picked roughly a gallon of sakatoons, 2L of raspberries, a jar of pickling cucumbers, and a bunch of other stuff on the weekend.
I'll probably be picking that many raspberries every 2 days or so for a bit.
Every day I miss eating a cucumber I need to make up for it the next day by eating two. The pickling cukes are poised for a bit of an avalanche.
The tomatoes are trickling in slowly, lots of orange ones from the polyamorous row comparatively. My seed collection is swelling.
Apples are swelling. Everything is building and building, the trickle before the flood of harvest.
For my garden it's a good year.
Things are rough in other directions right now. Engaging with relationships as they are, not as I want them to be: that's taking a lot of constant presence and effort. When my expectations get too tangled up in something I often can stop appreciating what it actually is, and I also generally stop looking for what I need in places I can actually find it. Maybe PDA makes me extra aware that carrying the weight of other people's expectations is a heavy burden. It's not one I prefer to inflict on those I love without consent.
But every day I come back to the garden and for awhile things are alright.
On the other hand, I picked roughly a gallon of sakatoons, 2L of raspberries, a jar of pickling cucumbers, and a bunch of other stuff on the weekend.
I'll probably be picking that many raspberries every 2 days or so for a bit.
Every day I miss eating a cucumber I need to make up for it the next day by eating two. The pickling cukes are poised for a bit of an avalanche.
The tomatoes are trickling in slowly, lots of orange ones from the polyamorous row comparatively. My seed collection is swelling.
Apples are swelling. Everything is building and building, the trickle before the flood of harvest.
For my garden it's a good year.
Things are rough in other directions right now. Engaging with relationships as they are, not as I want them to be: that's taking a lot of constant presence and effort. When my expectations get too tangled up in something I often can stop appreciating what it actually is, and I also generally stop looking for what I need in places I can actually find it. Maybe PDA makes me extra aware that carrying the weight of other people's expectations is a heavy burden. It's not one I prefer to inflict on those I love without consent.
But every day I come back to the garden and for awhile things are alright.
