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Friday, September 20, 2013

The Untended Garden

Every year I assess my garden program, decide what is working and what needs to change. This process begins in the spring and continues through the dark of winter. I start early so changes can be made before I get overly invested in a process I can't continue.

This year I planted potatoes in their dedicated spot. I also included five gallon buckets of potatoes to insure a crop. I planted fewer tomatoes as I realized that I really don't care for them. I planted them for my children. None of my hot peppers survived the caterpillars, drought, or neglect. The green peppers were slow to grow, but when the temps became unbearable they bloomed and are set with fruit.

I planted an entire garden outside the back door on the deck thinking there would be no excuse for neglect. Each plant was tended with daily care. The result for all my work was pitiful. However, the sage and rosemary look nice, well, alive and growing.

This was my traditional gardening spot. This year I decided to try bag gardening again. That didn't happen, so I moved in five gallon buckets. Life got busy and I just let it go...

The squash and cucumber plants I tended so carefully were all destroyed by cut worms, at the base, inside the pots. There are butternut squash amongst the leaves and weeds maturing even now. And those are the first tomatoes harvested this season. Of course temperatures are expected to be in the 70s - not tomato growing weather.

Gardening is a huge exercise in letting go. Even with all my planning, I haven't been able to replicate a single year. Last year I was all about fresh produce ferments. We had so many peppers and zucchinis. The year before pumpkins and tomatoes. Prior years with millions of tomatoes convinced me they were not my favorites.

It's cool and rainy, after weeks of dryness. In the evenings, after the grandchildren have gone home or to sleep, I work a different process with varying degrees of success to show for my work.
Dark blue hat for the baby. Slippers with spa socks for my father. Yellow hat for DA, or me. Bows for DA, of course. I make hair bows in lots of colors then add beads and a clip.
Here's DA's new hat. Quite perfect, if I say so myself. Made of Caron Soft yarn. Her school colors are blue and yellow. You'll see lots of projects in those colors.
Scrunchies and hair bows. I found glow in the dark beads. I almost returned the beads, but finally got them to glow after exposure directly on the light bulb and them absolute darkness. I thought the sun would be easier. Did not work. Back to the light...

It's harder to post these days. JP runs from one moment of excitement to the next spectacular discovery. Cookie Monster is interesting from my lap, in front of the keyboard. Less so from the bouncy seat or her chair. During young one awake hours, my attention is fully occupied - chasing, moving, feeding, playing, and redirecting. "Clap. Clap. Clap your hands."

Make today a great day!


Sunday, September 8, 2013

Altered Memories

My children have a habit of telling stories about me and the things I did to them that I swear are not true. More than that, I sometimes say that they are making things up. Then this morning, I remembered something I used to do to my children and thought, "How could any loving mother do that to her children?" And I am a loving mother. I always put the welfare of my children first. Yet, there it was, my memory of me doing something I would not want posted on Facebook.

It occurred to me how easily I recall my childhood and the ways I thought I had been mistreated. But when it comes to recalling my parenting, those memories are harder to access.  And because my children's memories do not match the image I have of myself I negate them.

Our memories are selective and reflective of our own subjective experiences. Much like the dozen witnesses who all see something different at the scene of an event, what we hold to be true is merely our perspective. Forgiveness is the key to freedom. 

I forgive ______ for not being what I needed them to be to me at that time. 

Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different.

Still letting go...