Lately, I’ve been on this internal, self-development, personal awareness kick where I’m trying to pay attention to external, visual signs, especially out in nature on our little five acres here in rural middle Tennessee.
Okay, if you don’t understand what I just wrote, then simply ignore it. Honestly, it often confuses me at times.
Anyways, the other day, I was out doing errands and one item on my list was to buy a replacement for my garden knife. I broke it the other day, but lucky for me it was a Fiskars brand, which has a lifetime warranty. So I wanted to replace it as soon as possible.
However, while at the store, I saw so many other gardening tools I wanted, but with Mr. Basketmaker and myself being self-employed artists, we are on a self-imposed, semi-strict budget. And I need to adhere to it majority of the year (I say “majority” because so far we have allowed a couple of sins between us… hence my usage of “semi-strict budget”).
So I replaced my garden knife but was enticed by all the other bright, shiny garden gadgets in front of me. Which I must add here, promised me, an ashamed-to-admit, non-green-thumber like myself, easy garden success.
Could a cynical, previous-employed advertising creative buy into such a claim? Yes, I was buying it! Well at least one other tool: a much-needed and nifty weeding tool.
When I arrived home, I was excited to show Mr. Basketmaker that not only did I replace the “lifetime warranty” garden knife that I broke but I also “got me a weeder.”
He enthusiastically said “cool.” And quickly blurted, “Hold on… I need to go get something to show you.” And he turned around and disappeared into his workshop.
From behind his back, he brought out two garden tools, he bought just for me, earlier that day, while I was out doing errands.
A multi-functional hoe and a brand new, shiny trowel! I was ecstatic to see the trowel because I came into this marriage with two of them and as of yesterday, found myself with only one of them, and a very beat up, dried out, splintered and dinged one at that. But marriage is about compromise so I was okay with that beat-up, abused, hardly-cared for trowel that I had since 1998. Whose keeping track anyways, right?
So when I saw my new two garden tool additions, I thought it was a total sign, and that Mr. Basketmaker and I are meant for each other. Not that I was questioning it, mind you…
…Just paying attention to life’s little signs. I now have a little set of new, shiny gardening tools… happy day!