Addictions

I picked clover this evening.

It's a very weird (so people tell me) therapy for me. When my father passed away (17 years ago yesterday) I went out into my backyard and pulled up the clover. I crawled around on my hands and knees for hours each day and methodically pulled clover. I would find the blossom or the leaves and trace them through the grass until I got to the root. Then I would pull the root out of the ground and trace back all the arms of the clover.

It wasn't long before I eliminated all the clover in my backyard. So I moved to the front yard.. and then eventually, as scary as it seems, to the neighbors yards. They would walk out their front doors and find me sitting cross legged in their yards quietly picking clover. They all thought I had gone off the deep end. Perhaps I had, for a while. I sometimes wonder what I would have done had my father passed away in December when there was no clover to be found.

It's a therapy that I continue to this day - although not to such extremes. It has a strong pull. there have been times I've been unable to resist it and pulled out a clover in a public park or friends house. But I'm generally able to stop at just one or two.

Tonight I allowed myself an hour to just sit and pick at it. It brings peace to my world.

Goats will probably love clover. I shall have to fence off a section of grass and clover for my weekly therapy sessions. It's a lot cheaper than a professional therapist.. although.. maybe.. by then there will be peace in my world on a daily basis and there will be no need for therapy.

oooooh.. the thought of that makes my knees go weak.