Living Happily Ever After

test123

Blog Articles

Garden Report 2011

Neighbors have begun sharing the bounty from their gardens. My co-workers are bringing their home-grown produce for lunch. Looks like it’s time for a report on my attempt at gardening this year. (Note the foreshadowing.)

Of the four almost two-year-old fruit trees I began the growing season with…two were chopped down by my youngest and his friend wielding toy swords. The third tree, loaded with approximately 30 little apples when I left on vacation earlier in the summer, was stripped bare 10 days later when I arrived home. (No sign or trace anywhere that there had once been the hope of fruit. I don’t know if little neighbor boys, birds or some other force of nature deserve the credit!) The fourth tree currently has 5 small nectarines clinging to two of its delicate branches; my husband is considering offering our youngest a cash reward if the fruit is allowed to remain there until it ripens!

The surviving peony bush (one of three hauled to Utah in orange Home Depot buckets from my Colorado yard in 2009 and transplanted in my Utah yard shortly after my arrival) still hasn’t bloomed. It has now been two years. I cut it some slack last year, wondering if perhaps it was still in shock at the upheaval and turmoil it had endured (I could SO relate!), but no fluffy pink flowers yet.

Of the flowers purchased by me and my husband at a local nursery earlier this year, the hanging basket (as I reported earlier) died within weeks; the rest were planted in three different pots and placed on the front porch. One pot died within a month, one is half dead, and the last bunch, though struggling terribly, is still hanging on.

Our pumpkin plants grew huge, beautiful leaves and approximately 75 blossoms (more blossoms than I’ve ever seen on anything.) The bounteous green vines are mounding and spreading…yielding, so far, two small light orange pumpkins and one tiny green one!

The zuchini starts we planted never did anything—in fact, they look about the same as when we bought them. The 8 tomato plants are all still alive, although two never blossomed or grew anything, one we harvested 4 small tomatoes from and the rest appear to be loaded with green tomatoes. Of the 6-7 lettuce plants, we made salad out of 3 of them before the rest died.

You know, life is like a garden. Some years, the growing conditions are easy-breezy; other years are more challenging. Some years plants thrive. Some years, not much appears to survive. The point is to keep watering and weeding, acknowledge every bit of growth or progress and to never quit planting. Always make the best of the plot you’re blessed with.

“I want it said of me by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow.” (Abraham Lincoln)

With Odds Like Mine

“…I’ve never been to therapy so there’s probably a lot of stuff about myself that I don’t know.” (Al Yankovic)

I didn’t know what to expect from my counseling session.

Believe it or not, I’ve always hated sharing the private details of my life (until my unexpected life–when I had no choice, the public nature of my former spouse’s Ponzi scheme and crimes took care of my privacy issues for me.) But I went. With Bachelor #5.

He tells me I wasn’t overly open or friendly to the counselor at first. He said my behavior gave him serious doubts as to the productivity of such an effort, but Bachelor #5 gave it his best shot anyway. He was open, willing to discuss all types of things with a virtual stranger, humble and accepting of advice the counselor offered. His comfort in the discussion gave me courage to share some of my thoughts. A little bit.

And then the premarital counseling session took an unexpected turn.

Toward the end, the therapist shared his background. And wouldn’t you know it? He was from the same hometown I am–Grand Junction, Colorado. Although he was several years older than me, we’d gone to the same high school; had some of the same friends…and then I started thinking about my connections there, his last name, and had a sinking feeling that I actually knew the therapist, too, or at least of him. I asked, ‘You don’t have younger brothers, do you?”

He confirmed that he was the oldest of five boys and actually had FOUR younger brothers.

That’s what I was afraid of.

I knew who he was. I knew (and loved) his parents, especially his mom. Because I had dated not just one, but TWO, of his younger brothers!

What are the odds of that? To end up unexpectedly single, living an unexpected life, in a new state, fall in love with a man, go to the “extra” effort of participating in remarriage counseling, and out of all counselors in the world, I end up with the one not just from my hometown, but whose brothers I dated?

I’m starting to think I should move to Las Vegas and take up gambling.

“Las Vegas: all the amenities of modern society in a habitat unfit to grow a tomato.” (Jason Love)