Monday, December 20, 2010
Porch Plant Pooch Screwing
Well, it looks like Mama done screwed the pooch. I didn't cover up the porch plants last night and this morning the chicken water is frozen solid. I heard the number "38" somewhere and thought it was going to be the low temperature for the night and for all I know, "38" is the chest size of Lady Gaga.
I should pay more attention.
I don't even want to go look at those plants. If they're dead, they're dead and there's nothing I can do about it now.
The Bradford pears in the backyard have suddenly turned golden. I have been waiting for the sun to properly come out and torch them up to take a picture and this morning, despite the cold, it did.
We do get seasonal color here, just not so much as say, Maine. Or Vermont. Or wherever it is that fall is a glory. Some of our leaves just turn brown and fall off and some turn orange and red and yellow and fall off and some persist in staying green and not falling off until the new leaves of spring push them out of the way the way Owen pushes me out of a chair so that he may climb on it and claim his dominance over the human race.
Well, it is five days before Christmas and the panic has set in and blocked my throat. I sip coffee trying to open it and let me tell you- probably not a good idea.
To town today to try and gather up this and that to round out the meager offering I have of gifts.
I think it is not just the plants I left uncovered in which I have screwed the pooch.
No. The pooch is well and royally screwed as applies to Christmas and so be it. The leaves will continue to change color, the Spanish moss will continue to hang like Christmas ornaments from the oaks,
the sun will continue to come up and light it all, exposing my pooch-screwing to the world, and if my twenty-something year-old philodendron is dead than I am a murderer due to lack of paying attention.
I have been guilty of worse.
Let us go forth and salvage what we can, remembering that we are not, as Anne Lamott said, The Piece of Shit Around Which The World Revolves. No. We (and here I mean "I", of course) are just a tiny piece of shit, like all humans are, as well as unstoppable sparks of life, capable of light and dark, capable of great good things and tiny murders, and we make our choices and we deal with the consequences and bless out hearts, the world continues to go on.