I don’t seem to be consistent with my blogs. I received my blog count today and found that even if I don’t write there is someone out there that is thinking of me. Thank you to all who took the time to stop by the blog.
I have been steadily getting better in my health and wellness of the total body these last months. I went through a bevy of doctors and tests to come to this part of my life. Being satisfied has not been one of my motivators in life. It would seem that the most pronounced change in my that was the hardest to come to terms with was the fact that it is alright to be satisfied.
It always seemed to me that the message I heard as a youngster from older folks was to work hard and make your mark. These people were not monetarily rich yet they seemed happy and content. Living seemed to be the commonality of all the folks that I recognized as role models. Living is something to cherish. It is also something that needs support. Part of the support needed for living is participation. When one lacks incentive to participate one loses part of life in the process. I do not like admitting to this but trying to find an incentive to find my deepest and darkest thoughts were lacking in fortitude and desire. It is simply easier to do nothing. Something is lost when one fails to participate. To bad my latent lazy tendencies started to show when I needed them the least. Never fear I do believe that I see them far in the background and they are fast approaching invisibility. Not with out my best efforts to the contrary though.
Which brings to mind my flower garden in front of the house that I planted three weeks ago. It is 36 square feet of hell that I did to myself. I remember having to scoop the whole thing into a trailer from a neighbors pile of dirt. It took several days but I managed to get the little space of hell filled with a foot of good Texas soil. ( IF there is such a thing as good Texas soil compared to Iowa soil.) The first year we raised pygmy vegetables. Looked pretty but the yield was minute. This year I have forgone the possible epicurean rewards for a little bit of color and garden art. I can’t paint but I do love the vibrant colors of flowers growing against the brilliant green of my lawn. If the garden were to take a form or shape it only accents the palate of which it has been set.
First, I purchased the flowers on a Saturday morning at Lowe’s. I returned home and placed them in the planter still in their plastic little container. The placement gave me an idea of how it was going to look. In my minds eye it was brilliant. A sculpture in flower petals all the colors of the rainbow. Then I went in the house and forgot about them. The next morning we had a frost. the flowers did not look to good. They had dried out in the afternoon sun. Then were beat down by the early morning frost. I planted them anyway. What the heck…?! I spent the money…??!! They can’t grow if they are not planted. They don’t grow well if they are dead either. Which for all intents and purpose they were dying when I planted them.
After three weeks and one replant I am happy to say that despite my best efforts to kill these flowers off with to much water, tilling, herbicide, and fertilizer they seem to be growing. I had fresh flower buds growing from the base of almost every flower. My flower garden happens to be a good metaphor of my own existence these last few years. The frost and water happened to be my cancer. The flowers are me. The doctors are the tilling. The chemo and radiation are the herbicide. My faith, family and friends are the the fertilizer. Like the flowers despite my best efforts to foil my recovery I have managed to still be here and growing. Thanks God for fertilizer.
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