The Prophet Said to Plant a Garden

We live in on-campus graduate/married student housing. It's a lovely place, and in the center of the complex is a big hill with a house turned office on top. Behind said office is a little fenced-in garden with 24 or so garden plots. A friend called me up last week and asked if I'd like to use her plot for the summer, as she's too busy to do much with it. Would I ever!

I got a look at it last week, and went up three or four times to try to clear the ridiculously tall weeds. I've cleared maybe a quarter of the plot, and discovered a patch of strawberry plants and some mint. I'm worried about the mint, as I know it's pretty invasive, but it should make for a fun summer. Or rather I thought it would.

Until I sprained my ankle on Saturday afternoon. At a birthday party (which was held by an LDS family during a session of general conference--which I don't get) I stepped off a deck onto uneven ground and ended up with a nasty bruise and had to hobble home using the stroller as a walker. It's easier to put weight on it today, but it's still a bit swollen and I'm trying to be careful.

Did you know, as a mother of three small boys who's accustomed to doing most household tasks, it's extremely difficult to force oneself to relax and put your feet up? It's hard! Perhaps I need to slow down and relax more mindfully more often. It feels good to put my feet up and say no to the kids' unceasing demands.

It makes me think about boundaries. Which makes me think about this post about boundaries. I love the idea of modesty's relationship to boundaries.