The first apartment my hubby and I lived in when we were married was an old seventies four-plex. I loved that place. We lived on the backside away from the street, and there was a patch of grass that was never really tended to, but somehow never managed to look too mangy. The only problem it ever had was that it got really dry and yellow in the hot summer months. Since property management never really took care of it, I took it upon myself one day to see what I could do to keep it from dying. I looked around the grass and discovered that it had a sprinkling system, and so I found the valve that turned it on, and grabbed some pliers from the house, and we were in business.

This was during a pretty serious drought we had our fair state that lasted quite a few years, and during the hot summer days in July and August, you could just feel the earth cracking and drying up. The word was that you were NOT supposed to water your lawn during the day, and although it was never enforced, it was basically complied with. I think that is the implied rule even when we aren't in a drought, because I guess we live in a desert, although I didn't know deserts got so much snow.

Back to my lawn. In the middle of July on a really hot day, I went outside and walked across my parched patch of grass, and couldn't take it any more. It was so thirsty, with no relief in sight.. I broke the cardinal rule and turned the water on, even though it was high noon. But I didn't care... I needed water, the lawn needed water- drought be damned! ( I am my mother's daughter ) As I went inside to keep from getting wet, I looked out the window and saw something I had never seen before. All of a sudden, there appeared all kinds of bees, butterflies and other insects fly over the sprinklers, then dipping down in the water to get a drink. It was the coolest thing. We all needed water, and I felt so glad that I had turned them on. We all had relief from the drought, if only for a few minutes.

Julia Cameron talks about droughts in her book "The Artist's Way". She says that during droughts, "we have lost faith-- in the Great Creator and in our creative selves. ....Looking for a hopeful sign, all we see are the hulking remains of dreams that died along the path" "Droughts are terrible, droughts hurt, droughts are long, airless seasons of doubt that make us grow, give us compassion, and blossom as unexpectedly as the desert with sudden flowers."

Last night my play closed. During the past couple of months, I felt like one of those butterflies dipping themselves into the refreshing spray of water, dried up and thirsty. I have been in a singing drought for seven years, if not more. For two months my drought was over. I only hope now that I have enough ground water to last me until the next play I do, because as cheesy as it sounds, plays are my survival. Without them I wither to the ground and dry up...( yes, I 'm dramatic, what can you do?)

Gratitude for Sunday
1/sleep 2/being healthy ( I threw up all day Wednesday--no, I'm not pregnant 3/traddles (my dog) 4/my hubby making me breakfast in bed for the first time ever today (I told you Lolly--he's Changed) 5/ Springtime on Temple Square--holy crap those tulips are amazing-