It has been roughly a year since the murmurings and whispers and news of folks stuck on a cruise ship unable to come to shore happened.

Its been roughly a year since people got really scary-sick a couple weeks after attending a conference in Seattle.

Its been roughly a year since the lights went out on Broadway and everyone around the planet put on masks – well those of us who believe in science did anyway – shut down schools, worked from home if you could, stressed about dying either from the virus or, honestly, starvation if the virus didn’t get you, and did our best not to die while exhausted nurses tried desperately not to lose their shit because another one needed to have a tube unglamourously shoved down their throats to help one try to breathe around gobs of fibrous snot, and as the virus did its best to throw clots and inflammation in random combinations, trying to kill you.

…and to try to maintain a positive outlook, stay connected, sane, and maybe think about doing some of those projects you’ve always meant to do when you have time, because if nothing else in 2020, most of us had an abundance of time.

One of my hobbies is gardening – fighting with poor soil, little bugs, random wildlife etc, while trying to grow something edible, beautiful, or both.

I befriended squirrels and fed the lady-squirrels in hopes that they would chase off the random male squirrels who seemed less inclined toward eating, and more inclined toward digging random holes in my planter beds, taking bites of things, deciding they didn’t like them, and then digging up the next thing in the row, which was the same kind of vegetable and repeating the exercise.

I fed birds. I put out a solar powered fountain that made soothing water sounds when the sun shined and the pump worked. The birds often stop by to take a drink, and sometimes bath in it.

Birds are a bit dirty and vile at times, so the fountain needed a scrubbing at least once a week to prevent it from turning into unnamed soup.

My dogs like the yard, as much as a dog can like its bathroom and hunting ground with a strange human forever cursing and moving plants around in it, and cursing and turning the compost, and cursing and running from the carpenter bees that zoom at your face and are harmless, and the wasps that sun themselves in places where you were just getting ready to put your hand.

There was a lot I didn’t do this year, but I didn’t get sick and become a burden on our medical care professionals. I didn’t get rich, but between some kind clients and generous friends, I didn’t starve, and was even able, occasionally, to send people little treats to brighten their day.

I painted a picture of my niece that looks like her, and she loves it. I might do more of them and collaborate with my brother in law on a book with me as the illustrator? We shall see.

I learned a lot and realize I know nothing, and that I have a whole lot more to learn about gardens, but sometimes luck and circumstance get together and over time, and with lots of carried water to keep them alive, sometimes beauty happens from soil, and sometimes food happens.

Here are some pictures from the garden.

I hope you survived 2020 with your sanity and your body in some semblance of health, and that if you weren’t able to do much of anything, again, at least you survived one of the worst years this planet has seen in recent memory.