It means more than a garden. It means more than height or weight or bank accounts. It's inside, in our minds. And it might be the most difficult kind of growing there is.
Each year I plant my gardens. I start hopefully with seeds in early spring, carefully pushing them into greenhouse pots, worrying over them until shoots appear. Then it's out to the garden: plant, weed, hoe, till and eventually, harvest.
New ideas need the same care. Plan first. Think it through, consider all the options, then move forward, planting the idea and letting to develop into action. Tiny steps first, then refining, weeding and developing into a project. In the end, perhaps there is a harvest, a reward for the work put into that first tiny seed of an idea.
The new log room is one of those ideas. We saw the old cabin many times and each time we passed it we would say, "Someone needs to tear it down while the logs are still useful." The more we said it, the more we realized that we would be the ones who would do it, if the owner would let us have the logs. We tried to contact him, to no avail. And then one day, miracle of miracles, he was home. Yes, he would let us have the logs if we cleaned up the mess.
We did. The logs are here now. The foundation is laid. Now we need more fertilizer (the green $$$ kind) to buy the floor joists and subfloor. But the idea is still growing. It's got roots now in the concrete that is embedded in our soil. A new room grows.
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