The keeper is back into the Rhineland mystical school---she tells me that the mystics talked about grace as veriditas, green and ever returning like spring. She says that when she is driving around for her work she always wants to stop the car and smell the spring and gaze at the shades of green that roll like delicious sheer waves inviting her in. I asked her if she has been into the catnip stash. Then she started reciting poetry from Gerard Manley Hopkins:
Nothing is so beautiful as spring--
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush's eggs look little low heavens. . .
The glassy pear tree leaves and blooms,
. . .
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden . . .
She actually came home from the office yesterday and started turning the soil in the garden which hasn't been used for a while. The western half gets the afternoon sun, so she will plant some vegetables and other flowers in it. She got a third of it done, and knows she is a little late in her garden chores. She had to stop because I crept through the fence to the neighbor's and was surprised by a black long haired cat. We howled and hissed it up and the keeper climbed over the fence in her gardening boots and scared the cat out of its own yard. I was mortified. I had been doing quite well on my own. She did give me new designer food though. What's a bonito? It smells like fish. It was mixed with tuna.
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