Saturday, July 31, 2010

On Arriving

Arrival is one of those predators you don't see coming until your arm is investigating its lower intestine. One moment -OK, more than one moment, many moments, an eternity- you're in transit, and the next you aren't anymore, and you have to figure out what you're going to do with yourself that doesn't involve alcoholism or daytime television or a potent combination thereof.

I did this. Plus two tomato plants. And a fair amount of hubris.

Making a stab at gardening -even container gardening, which is only one notch above keeping houseplants, and not a very impressive notch, at that- is something I always meant to get around to. In fact, I'd been meaning to get around to if for the better part of a decade and a half, which is why I'm so shocked that I actually went and did the thing. I guess sometimes you surprise yourself. Or else maybe there really are things for which you wait -famously, fatuously- for that fabled right time.

Cross your fingers for me. These babies need it. Plants drink milk, right?

1 comment:

wombat said...

Consider planting a hardy rose bush near your porch if you can. We planted one in Oberlin, it was great to watch it grow! They're nice in that you can give them as much or as little attention as you want, most of the time. You can go all out and pamper them, but really, they've been doing this far longer than you and are quite capable of growing up sprangly and strong and beautiful without you.