Wednesday Gardening – Driveway Progress

The peas are done and now we’re looking forward to the tomatoes

There are couple in there.

Corn shouldn’t be too much longer:

Growning tall.

And the squash and cucumbers are coming along too:

We’ve had a lot of hot days here so Heather has sometimes been out there everyday to water.  One of the problems we’ve noticed is that the driveway concrete can get very hot and ends up baking the roots.  When the weather was cooler, this was just fine, but the driveway garden isn’t the best thing for hot summers.


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905 Posts

I was going to write a special post for my 900th post on this blog.  Apparently that was two weeks ago and today will be post 905.  I don’t check out the stats on my blog very often.  I just did a quick check and found I still have followers and about half the comments made here are mine.

There are times I wonder if I should keep doing this blog.  Then I come to my senses and just keep writing.  When asked why I write, my standard answer is, “I write because I have stories to tell.”  For my 900th post I was thinking of telling a special story.

But I forgot to write it down and don’t remember what story that was, so naturally I started thinking about the stories of our lives.  Even the most simple event can be the basis of a great story.  The impact of the story is in the hands of teller.

As I age I find comfort and inspiration from the simple and ordinary acts around us.  Wash the dishes and watch the garden as it bends in the wind and in your mind follow the wind as it blows your imagination to distant lands.  The job of the writer is to take a story out of the wind and share it with others.  The story can be real or imagined.  It can be about great things or simple things. When the tale is told, the reader should be changed by the telling.  Maybe in a just a small way – a smile, a tear …

In this blog I use the written word to share my stories.  Sometimes in a poem or as prose.  Sometimes they are funny, sometimes serious and once in a while a bit meaningful.

There are many ways to share a story other than writing.  There’s the spoken word, a video, a picture, a stage play, a song, and on and on.  Even graffiti on a bridge tells a story if you take the time to understand it.

Lately I’ve been giving some thought to possibly expanding how I tell stories.  In the past I’ve done a little playing with video editing and have thought I might do more.  I’ve also done a fair amount of public speaking in the past and have some skill.  In these covid days, I can’t attend the open mic poetry readings I used to, but technology lets me record and post those.

Lately I’ve been feeling that it’s about time I took a chance with my creative work.  The work I’ve done with this blog has been satisfying, but always there is artistic need to do something more, something different, something from a different angle …

So what is the future you might find here? I don’t know for sure.  Maybe there will be videos, audio, more pictures or perhaps I’ll start planning my posts better.  I’ll make some changes.

I know many of my followers have their own blogs and creative outlets – what changes have you been thinking about in your creative work?

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Friday Wisdom – Doctoring

I told the doctor I thought I was having memory loss – he made me pay in advance.

The medical assistant said, “Doctor there’s a man on line 1 who says he’s invisible.”  The doctor replied, “Tell him I can’t see him right now.”

The doctor told me that jogging could add years to my life.  He was right. I started jogging and feel 10 years older.

Four years ago my therapist said I had trouble letting go of the past.

Doctor says to the patient, “I’ve not seen you in a long time.” Patient replied, “Yes, I’ve been sick.”

On a job application where it asks who to call in an emergency, I always put, “A good doctor.”

Never go to a plastic surgeon who’s office is filled with portraits by Picasso.

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The Words

I was going to write a different post today.

But there are no right words for a world that is descending into injustice where the rule of law and decency is ignored from street level to the highest offices. 

There are no words when we judge based on skin and not on the character of a heart.

When we reject seeing the divine in each of God’s people, we start the downward cycle of rejecting compassion and spinning into the abyss of hatred and violence.

There are no words for times like these.  Some rage, some cry, and some wonder why.

And as I sit down to write my city has joined in announcing a curfew – hoping that more enforcement can contain a world primed with fear and hate.

I don’t have an answer or the right words.

But I can’t help but think that we would do better as a nation if we listened more and tried to heal divisions.

I did see an interesting sign of hope.  A FaceBook friend reposted a picture the Santa Cruz Police Chief kneeling with the other peaceful protesters in his city. See: 

The only thing I know for sure is that healing begins with listening and the willingness to embrace change within ourselves.

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