Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Curses, Blesses and Introspective Blogging

Once upon a time in the blogosphere, I cursed the name of my "friend" Lynn-Lady and her basil cutting. She's a rooter and nurturer by birth and I'm so proud of her for going back to school and tackling a profession in medical assistance. When I first met Lynn-Lady eight or nine years ago, in her first conversation with me, she said she always wanted to be a medical assistant, but she was in human relations. Now she's taken the steps to fulfil her dream and I couldn't be more proud of her. Yea School! Go Team!

Ok, so back to the previous post in which I understand lauded her more than chastised her, but I did call her tonight to let her know I wasn't talking to her anymore. She's turned me into a basil monster; hence the basis for this post.

This is a long and convoluted track (could you guess?), full of introspection, so please humor me.

Yesterday, I harvested a ton of basil, largely comprised of cuttings from Lynn-Lady's transplant.
I put the basil along with the jalapenos I picked yesterday and the sweet potato "fingers" that I wouldn't cook regardless in individual containers in our mail room at school and sent out a memo to the faculty that they were available. By the end of first period I got this:
Now, remember, last week I out a basket of jalapenos out in the mail room and all got taken as well and I was just as giddy, but it wasn't until this week that I remembered the transplant emotions that I had when putting the tomato transplants in the mail room last spring. This experience wasn't much different except for that I felt what was much akin to pride in having everything gone and getting the "when will there be more" e-mails than I did the last time. The end result is the same, but why do I have such different emotions? Could it be that I was so thrilled with myself for growing the tomato transplants to begin with that I had additional emotions steeped within it? Who knows, but I did manage to barter a trade for more basil in return for fantastic pesto, something I've never managed to make, myself.

I don't know if I've processed it enough to understand it, but I'm just thrilled that I found empty baskets. I'm so excited that the harvests I won't use will come to someone else's table. Maybe that's it. I would have eventually found uses for the transplants and they wouldn't have been wasted, but this time around, the food most certainly would have been, so I'm more grateful which I understand I should have been all along with the transplants.

You never get too old to learn lessons, I matter if you can thread a needle without the use of pliers, a spotlight and a magnifying glass.
The morning comes early. Sweet garden-sharing dreams.


  1. I STILL remember those seedlings from last year! Yes, those seedlings had your heart and soul in them so it hurts more to not be thanked - this time of year it's easy to get overwhelmed and dump produce on anyone LOL!

  2. I am bleeping elated when somebody, anybody, relieves me of any and all veggies at this point. Well, except lettuce and carrots and cabbage. I was ready for those again. But yes, I would be upset about the plants. It seems we're much more fond of our "children" when they are babies. First fruits are also looked upon with love. By late adulthood, we've just had enough of their nonsense. Hmm, kind of like real people ;-)

  3. Interesting that you have a different reaction to the same things.