This gardening plan really makes me feel like a part-time farmer. Every time I have a free moment, I head to the garden—even if it’s just to stand there and think, “What should I do today?”
Yesterday, I was busy filling up the soil around the pond. It was exhausting work, but somehow, the pond now looks like a child who just got a new outfit—proud and gleaming.
Today, it’s the turn of the old pots, which are almost fossils by now, to get cleaned. Some flowers need to be moved to fresh pots because their space is being repurposed into a vegetable patch.
I gathered the old, neglected pots.
These were my grandmother's legacy—she used to be so diligent in planting flowers.
One by one, I cleaned them, wiping off the layers of dust and grime to make them look less dull. Just a little scrubbing and rinsing with water was enough to bring out their charm.
The pots now seemed different—brighter, or rather, just cleaner.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t clean all of them. The rain began to drizzle.
So I managed to clean only a few before the drizzle turned into a steady shower.
And there I was, standing with a mix of excitement and resignation.
Still, I continued.
I filled the pots with fresh planting medium—soil mixed with compost, rich and ready.
The rain was persistent, growing heavier, but so was my resolve.
The pots were filled, and somehow, they seemed to radiate happiness, as if they knew they were finally going to be of use again.
I turned to the patch of hardened soil where the Paris lilies stood.
Carefully, I dug them out, freeing them from the unforgiving earth.
And then, gently, I placed them in their new home—a clean pot, filled with life and promise.
It felt right, like giving them a second chance.
I wanted so much to continue.
But the day had already begun to fade, and the drizzle hadn't stopped.
On top of that, my stomach was starting to ache—seemed like it was asking for food.
I looked at the work still unfinished, then at the sky, and finally, at the garden, feeling a mix of satisfaction and longing.
But sometimes, even the best plans need to pause.
I took one last look at the pots, now standing proudly in their new homes, and made my way back inside.
There would be another day for the garden. Today, it was time for a warm meal and a little rest.
