It's like deja-vu - this spring again, for the dozenth spring in a row, I'm declaring in a loud voice that this is the year that I'll start gardening and turn my balcony into an herb jungle. I shall grow a green thumb overnight and suddenly emerge as a person who keeps plants alive instead of killing them. All awhile the cynic in me retorts, saying I just don't have the gardening gene.
But no excuses! If I have to spend more time home, if I shouldn't spend as much time outdoors as I would like this spring, I should bring outdoors to me. If RK cannot go to nature, nature shall come to RK.
Therefore, as a result of several days of manic shopping and unnecessary exposure to a plethora of bacteria and viruses, we now have several bags of soil, pots for saplings, and a respectable variety of seeds. All there's left to do is get into something comfy, put on gloves, and start gardening the crap out of it.
Due to the current circumstances and the fact that I can't go out to a cafe to work anymore, this might actually be the year I do this - when I really do read the instructions and plant the seeds and water them and arrange them for optimal sunlight and sit all day talking to them. And then, after weeks and months of this kind of self-care, there might actually be something to look at, or something to eat, or something to garnish my food with, although those surely aren't the point of this.
If you're feeling anxious right now and need some calming activities, try gardening. If you like creating and nurturing life when the world seems to sit still, try gardening. If getting your hands dirty and smelly gives you inner peace, try gardening.
Herbs, flowers, vegetables, whatever you like. Hell, you could even plant a meatball.