Rambling Thoughts, Changes and Observations

Each morning as Jenna and I walk to the bus, we notice the sprinklers watering the lush green grass on the corner   

and I think how nice it would be to have lush green grass.

Never in my life has the yard outside of whatever house I’ve lived in, has there been lush green grass inviting my bare feet to run through it.

For the most part, if ever I have been brave enough to go barefooted, my feet scream at me and remind me that there are dry patches among the green but still non-lush.

I find that when I just wear sandals outside of the last two houses I have lived, the thorns and stickweed chock the life out of whatever we’d like to be growing. 

They scratch at my feet and my legs and imbed themselves
 into the soles of my shoes and often hitch rides into the house.

We did not water this year.  Water pressure is down 
devoting four hours a day to my less than promising lawn was not a priority.  Rather a waste of time
 (and water)

Our yard actually does not much worse than it has the years we have tried to nurture.

I ride the bus.

I notice many buses seem to be coming out of retirement.

They’re not all old relics.  But I was on one the other day that had the vinyl blue seat

The same vinyl seats I remember from the first time I had ever taken the bus.

But that was over 30 years ago.  Surely it’s not that old.

But the seats seemed to be closer to the floor

As my knees seemed more bent and up in my face somehow

And there was no legroom – or perhaps it just seemed that way because the seats are so close to the floor.

Sometimes those relics are used for training purposes. 

I have been a passenger on buses in which the driver is still training.

I wonder how long it takes to train before they get to be out on their own.

UTA offers more than 100 routes.  I don’t know how many buses are needed for each route. 

I would guess more than a thousand buses. 

Some have been in recent crashes.

Some have just given out for whatever reason.

That’s a lot of buses – not to mention the flex buses and ski buses and whatever else.

When we got to the school, Jenna made some comment about what she’s learning

I don’t remember what it was, but I questioned it and compared to my own upbringing.

“It’s a different century mom.”

She’s right.  Both my mom and I had gone to school in the 20^th century.

Jenna wasn’t even born until the 21^st. 

Not the way she meant it, but it made me think.

We really are going two schools in two different centuries

I’ve brainstormed thoughts for a while now. 

But I either couldn’t sit down to form sentences

Or was just too tired to.

I have lacked motivation.

The weather is changing.

I wear a jacket to the bus stop

and when we walk to the school

But it usually comes off before I cross the street

to catch the return bus home

 

I prefer the cool weather.

I don’t like it when it’s hot.

I haven’t melted yet.

That’s something.

Omigosh Mishaps in the Garden

    By no means am I a gardener.  Don’t know as I ever had the desire to be.  If I did, it was when I was younger.  Like grammar school younger.  And the sun didn’t seem to faze me as its heat wrapped itself around my body like an unwanted blanket – suffocating me.  I’d rather be indoors with the air conditioning and not pulling weeds in the garden.

    It seems the wind has blown some grass seed into our garden.  And the miracle grow is doing wonders on the grass and the beans and peppers.  But the grass is not a part of our garden and so I have been pulling up blades.  I can dig up the roots (well, some of them) if they are in the isle of the garden, but if they are sprouting in the same row as the plants (or some still seeds) they can’t be dug up as well.  

    Every day there are blades of grass.  Everyday I tug at the blades and dig and rake.  I am frustrated when they are still attached to the earth with roots so long they must reach to the center of the earth.  We need the plants to spread their roots.  How can they if the grass blades have such long roots?

    The pigweed pulls out easily.  When I am done pulling and tugging and digging, I will rake the area over.  It is then when I learn how well my digging has (or has not paid) I can tell the blades and weeds from the beans and peppers.  But I am still having a problem telling the onions apart from the grass blades.  So I know that I am not getting it all on that particular end of the garden.

      But the weeds are not my biggest obstacle.  I learned that fighting with the net has become my biggest challenge.  We put two up over the garden and one over the sad looking cantaloupe to keep the birds and dogs out.  Don’t know about the birds and the dog, but I’m thinking that if I trip over or rip the nets any further, they will keep me out.  Gardening is such an incredible pain.  May our produce be worth it.

Learning to Love My Grass, Part 2

          So often we look at others’ lives and wish they were our own – or that we could have that kind of luxury or peace or knowledge or whatever.  For the most part we only see just one piece of the puzzle.  We see what we perceive as beautiful and elegant and glamorous; we don’t see the struggles behind whatever it is that we think we envy.

          Everybody has struggles.  Those that don’t or think they don't are at a disadvantage because they aren’t growing.  We all make sacrifices.  Little day to day things.  Sacrificing the doughnut as a result of better health.  Giving up a bit of time each month to contribute to your child’s education or the welfare of those in your neighborhood or church.  Not spending money on one’s self but giving it to another who’s more in need – though it often feels like the finances of the giver are even less than the receiver.

          I had a missionary companion whose family put all their Christmas funds into buying wheat.  That’s what Santa had left them.  It was hard for her to explain or even comprehend when she went back to school and listen to her classmates talk about gifts they had received.  She was only six.

          There have been those who have sacrificed their jobs while attending to their families or the other way around.  Losing their families because they are always at work.  Everything comes with a price – or so it seems.  And we don’t always know or understand the price that the other person has had to pay for whatever we perceive as wanting a part of our own lives.   

          And certainly the cruise appeals to us a lot more than attending a child’s bedside while at the hospital AGAIN – but at what cost.  Do we ever see the full picture?  Do we see the cruise as a luxury that we may never have because we obviously don’t have the finances that the other obviously must have.  Obviously?  Do we understand what sacrifices were made on their part in order to have a cruise – or why?

          Are they cruising to satisfy the wishes of a dying spouse?  Are they cruising because it was recommended by a physician or therapist?  Have they been setting 10 dollars aside every month for the last 30 years? 

          Until we understand fully what we see on the surface isn’t always the glamour we envision, until we understand the sacrifices made to get there, we don’t really KNOW if the other man’s grass is always greener than our own.  It may only appear that way on the surface.  But do we have an understanding of HOW it was grown?