I don't know their names, yet - these green things that are outside my back door. Plants of different varieties. Some have flowers. Purple ones. White ones. Blue ones. Some are long vine type things. Presumably, they all thirst for water. And from what I hear, morning is a good time to provide it. Before the sun rises, when the plants are waking up. I know I'm thirsty in the morning, so it makes sense that they would be, too. So this is now part of my routine - watering the plants. It's a nice way to start the day, helping keep things alive. But prolonging life for some plants means ending it for others. This morning, I pulled some of the weeds that had begun to grow since we moved in. They were beginning to take over chunks of garden real estate. Sometimes it's hard to tell the weeds from the plants. They're clever that way, those weeds. Hiding among the plants, starving them of food and water. I filled an entire kitchen bag with them. I don't have the bigger garden bags, yet. I've not had to buy those in a long time. You know, the black ones. As a kid I'd fill those things all the way up with grass clippings - five or six of them - and leave them at the end of our driveway for the trash men to take on Monday morning. They would be fat and heavy, and the plastic would get hot in the sunshine. I'm glad I only need one kitchen bag right now. I have a hose. And a spray nozzle, though I hardly use it. I don't have any of the other gardening tools, yet. Clippers, tiny shovels - objects and devices to assist me with the prune. I'm excited by the prospect of these things. My heart quickens a bit just thinking about them. Maybe I'll get a pair of heavy gloves, too. But I don't think so. I like getting my hands dirty.

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