Oddments

In search of story


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Disconnections: August 14.18

Zinnias in tatters

petals all strewn

who done the deed?

what marauding poltroon?

When I glimpsed the bright sneak

I recanted my whine

my old friends have found me!

the garden’s more mine.

 

Please pardon the slight haze, dear reader. I had to nab this shot through the window.

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Disconnections: August 10.18

When your plumbing’s contrary

your car’s in the shop

the travails of the world

are over the top

you’re always on hold

and a half-inch behind

words and your keys

keep slipping your mind

the robocalls pester

the outlook is dour,

call a time-out

and go watch a flower.

 

I do realize that not all life’s problems are so easily airbrushed, and not everyone has a flower to watch, and I wish it were otherwise. But the other day this happened to me. I was utterly out of patience and stormed out to the back, and there was this gorgeous, tranquil little being, totally absorbed in the zinnias. Imagine being hit so hard by calm.

 

 


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Disconnections: August 4.18

 

I’ve written tomato posts before

I hope another won’t annoy ya

this is, I think, but half tomato

the other half’s sequoia.

 

For many years I’ve planted tomatoes in memory of my Grandpa Mauck. The smell of the plant always brings him back for me. Alas, the smell was about the extent of my harvest. I just couldn’t grow tomatoes. Until last year.  Suddenly those Mauck gardening genes roused up, and I had actual tomatoes! I especially loved the pear tomato, so this year I tried another one, and, even though it was planted late and spindly, and in Someone Else’s Garden, it rallied and has taken exuberance to a whole new level, racing over and through the deck rail, and draping itself over the potted plants. I know that one morning I’ll wake up and find it wound around my ankle.

A pear tomato, marigolds, zinnias, dill…as you can see, dear reader, the garden is slowly, slowly becoming mine. (MINE, you wretched rabbits and Japanese beetles and chipmunks, MINE! Not YOURS!!)