Respect

Oftentimes it is hard to get the respect that you deserve.

Is it because others aren't ready to give as much as you need? It's hard to give that much respect, I'll admit it.  I need a whole lot.

I think the problem, for me, lies in the fact that I am generally happy. People don't take you seriously when you've got a smile on your face. How do you change that? Are you just a surprise to people your whole life? Do you have to sneak up on them with your strength, smarts, your secret serious nature and your ability to really get things done?

I guess, for me, it is better to be undersold than oversold. I can always prove myself. It would be hard to constantly falling short of people's expectations.

Do people make assumptions about you because of your demeanor? Is what they see usually what they get with you? Let me know.

Eternal Spring

Summer here is actually eternal spring. Zucchini's are just starting to go crazy, the temperature never gets very high, and flowers are just overflowing your conceptual boundaries of how beautiful flowers should be all of the time. 

I am constantly overwhelmed by the beauty of it all and the promise as well. On my runs I pick figs for snacks and we go outside our front door to snag a sweet bursting handful of blackberries when we need some extra sugar in our lives. 

 These are the zucch's that I picked off my plant this morning. Also I brought in a handful of tomatoes. Plus, my neighbor just moved and hooked me up with his stash of green tomatoes so I made a beautiful and delicious (if I do say so myself) green tomato pie. Things are so plentiful. Feeding ourselves at this house just got so affordable. 

Mamaw

Dear sweet Mamaw,

You are a woman, beautiful in faith and generous of character. Full of contradictions, like all of us, your good heart and loving soul were never hard to see.

While it is hard to come to terms with the grasp of death and the idea not doing things with you anymore - to plant (or weed) for, to cry and to laugh with, to cook for or to be cooked for, to eat with, to gossip about the family with, to walk with, send mail to or even to watch TV with, it is a relief to not have you suffer anymore.

I know that faith guided you along in both life and death and am thankful for that. I know that your love for us has made us better people. And God knows that we will miss you.

"Why cry for a soul set free?" I love you more than words can say.

Poetry

I read this excerpt from a poem on Tuesday on a bus ride around town. It seems especially fitting now.

From Walt Whitman's What Is the Grass


What do you think has become of the young and old
   men?
And what do you think has become of the women and
   children?

They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, and
   if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed,
   and luckier.

Harvest

The garden it grows.

Pretty much every moment of freedom at the house something gets put in or expanded or trimmed and last but not least harvested. Forget cleaning, it's summertime. 

Suddenly there is a hanging planter of thyme and there are two groups of mint plants, three tomato plants (two are recently salvaged and may or may not make it), a rosemary plant, a whole bunch of Thai basil, and a super prolific zucchini squash plant. Mustard greens are coming up, mixed green seeds are in the ground, carrots grow stronger every day. The remaining blackberry bush is producing some delicious fruits. The yard is a mess but a blessing too.

Found some bulbs in a free pile yesterday. Don't know if they're viable but figured it was worth a try. Those are in the ground. A beautiful Hydrangea plant is mine now and I refuse to share. It'll go in the ground soon- maybe Friday evening if not today after my run.   

Here is just a taste of my wealth in zucchini squash. Next to it lie a sliced purple potato and a yukon gold that I got down the street at a farm stand. Here's to making a summer squash torte on Thursday for the boy.

Other things:
Fiona Apple concert on Thursday. Can't wait.

Summer dinner involving the torte, some watermelon, and perhaps a blackberry concoction if we get that ambitious for pre-concert dinner.

Grapes! They're growing in my backyard unbidden.

Poetry and learning to read it.

And, it's back to the work week for me today but the night involves Christmas in July and the day a run. So, I can't even begin to complain.

Nothing but the very best to all of you sweet things.

Camps for Champs: I've said it once and I'll say it again

Yesterday I was on my first non campsite based camping trip and, to date, my favorite camping trip. The last trip I went on was good company and definitely had some perks but this camping trip was just above and beyond.

Firstly, we biked to the park in which we camped, secondly we cooked trout wrapped in fig leaves on the embers of a fire, thirdly, there were barges floating by our shore at all hours of the night, fourthly, such good company. fifth, did I mention we camped on the shore?

The weather was beautiful after raining intermittently all day it cleared up where we were and gave us a pretty sunset and some light to collect firewood by. Delicious snacks were packed and, of course, no pictures were taken. Sorry guys, you're just going to have to imagine. The one downside is: the ground is not comfortable to sleep on. Who knew?

Hope you all are getting some adventures yourself.

Back in

I'm back in it here at home in Portland. Back to work, back to my garden, back to cleaning the house, back to a sweet boy and unkempt crushes, back to roomies, and cooler weather.

Today, I made a salad from herbs in my garden plus lettuces from my farmshare, I went for a run with my regular running buddy and didn't sweat out all of the fluids in my body. Yesterday, I drank tea with a sweet fellow and walked amongst the eternal springtime of Portland. There are flowers everywhere.

While I was away my garden exploded. My tomato plant doubled in size and my squash isn't too far behind all of that. It is nice to remember how sweet the summer is. Bouquets have been picked and made in houses all over Portland from the sweet bounty of early summer. The next few months is going to be wondrous.

Of course, I miss the east. But finally, the winter here is paying off it's dues.