Saturday, September 11, 2004

By 6:30 a.m I was already at my parents' house.
Ready to help my mother with her gardening chores.
I volunteered to pick out the weeds.
And make flowers beds for the bright orange santans to be planted.
Just below the front window sill facing the gate.
Sweating profusely from the bright sun.
Armed with rubber gloves, a straw hat and gardening tools.
I squatted, I pulled out the weeds.
I got dirty from the soil and the fertilizers.
But it felt good to feel the rays of the sun on my skin.
The flow of perspiration raging down my back like a river.
By 10 a.m, the task was completed.
I admired my work of 'art'.
I marveled at my enthusiasm.
My willingness to be active at such an early hour.
I took lot of showers today.
Ist, before leaving the loft.
2nd after gardening.
3rd, when I got back to my place around 6 p.m.
Just in time to catch someone online.
Barely ate anything for dinner.
Not hungry at all.
Showered for the 4th time.
I'm sore.
My body is aching all over.
The last time I was this sore and sweated like a pig is still vividly etched in my memory warehouse.
But that activity didn't involve any gardening tools.

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