Growing Pains

Well, it's May 21, and we are all still here. That's good because I would have been really upset if I'd come this far with the book only to have the world end before anyone got to read it! 

Anyway- June 1st is still the release date but, I have recently found out that it may be necessary to allow a little wiggle room.  Really, the reason is editing.  The manuscript has been through a series of edits and a copy editor but, there are still changes, albiet small, to be made.  Of course, it needs to be printed as error free as possible, so, although the changes are small, they are still in process. The wonderful thing about POD though is that once the changes are made, it should all move pretty quickly so I'm not anticipating a long delay if there is one at all.  Just saying....

Here is another resurrected post in the meantime...

Growing Pains

My son Joe gave me a beautiful hanging planter on Mother’s day.  Pink and white blossoms in a huge basket,  long flowery tendrils hanging over the side, robust dark green leaves.  He walked into the house, kissed me  and handed it over.

“Happy Mothers Day!”

“Thanks Joe”

Then-from the corner of the room, another voice:

“So, Joe what did that plant ever do to you?   Did it indicate in any way that it had a death wish or were you  just being sadistic?”

Rob.  My second child-no self editing capabilities.

Enter my mother.
She said to Joe, “Nice plant!” Then turning to me she added, “Maybe you should just give it to me.” 
Everyone’s a comedian.

I decided it was high time I grew something… and had it survive. 

How hard could it really be?  I mean, it’s spring and the whole neighborhood is brimming with people tending  little plants. If they could do it, why can’t I? Most are growing vegetables, a booming business in this  economic downturn.  This, by the way, has made walking around my neighborhood a lot more fun than it used to  be!  I get guys talking to me about their jumbo cucumbers-and they are quite forthcoming with details related  to how big they will get with some tender loving care.  The lady down the road told me that she traded in her Small Fry tomatoes for Supersonic VF Hybrid grafted ones- explaining that they will keep their firmness when  everyone else’s have shriveled and were hanging on the ground.  I was able to learn a number of fertilization  techniques from the couple next door, but, I digress….

I created my own little garden, a small piece of heaven and cost effective nutrition. 
Growing  tiny seedlings and transplanting them to the tilled and fertilized outdoor garden went better than  expected.  I made sure they would have enough sun and placed them close to a water source as  insufficient quantities of both have derailed my gardens in previous years. I planted them tenderly, with  little stakes at the beginning of each row indicating what vegetable my family would be enjoying in a few  months and watered my little bambinos.  Then I put up a little fence so the area was cordoned off- a necessary  visual barrier for the kids as verbal instructions are rarely successful without reinforcement.

All was going very well for close to 18 hours.
Just so you know, that’s probably a record for me.

As I was letting my puppy in from outside, I noticed she had a sprig of green in her mouth. I stood there, not  quite comprehending for a few very long moments, knowing it looked a lot like one of the carrot plants I had  sown, but not understanding how it possibly could be.  Reality slowly dawned.  I eased my head toward the  garden, terrified to look. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, my worst fears were confirmed.  I was met  with a vast, nuclear wasteland where my garden should have been….grey, flat…..dead.    There were partial plant  carcasses  strewn about haphazardly, holes were dug, and a little pile of  puppy dung sat in the center where  my one pumpkin plant should have been. My fence had been breached, violated by an overzealous ten pound Boston  Terrier.

I have concluded that I will serve our economy best by purchasing vegetables at our local farm stand…
I stopped in front of my Mother’s house, knowing that what I was about to do was the right thing.  I tenderly  placed the basket Joe gave me in a blanket, nestled a bottle of plant food between its blossoms and placed the  bundle on her stoop. I rang the doorbell, then ran and hid until I was sure mom answered and watched as she  brought it lovingly into the house.

Under the circumstances, it was the merciful thing to do.