The Sorry Gardener

Hellooooo? Anybody still out there?

Despite the lackluster Pacific Northwest weather, I’ve had a lovely summer.

I’d intended to renovate the Sorry Garden, but instead I spent the summer out on the back porch cultivating my self. I didn’t work in the garden at all, except to grow some veggies. And I didn’t take garden photos. And I divorced the computer, although I retained visitation rights to my favorite blogs. It was very liberating.

Mostly, I contemplated. I contemplated who I am. I contemplated my strengths and weaknesses. I contemplated my motivations. I contemplated what makes me happy. I contemplated what it means to be who I am. And I contemplated how I want to live my remaining years.

Occasionally I daydreamed about being 5’7, size 2, and independently wealthy, with Mr. Sorry feeding me grapes and painting my toenails according to my whim. But mostly I contemplated.

Along the way, I picked up a book and rediscovered the utter pleasure of reading. I read one book after another after another, kind of the way Forrest Gump ran and ran and ran. I haven’t read that many books in the last 20 years.

And I stayed clean all summer. Usually I’m covered with sweat and dirt and bug spray and have dog shit on my garden shoes. But this summer I stayed gloriously clean.

When I ventured out to the local tour of gardens, I wasn’t even envious as I gawked at the perfect plantings. I just thought, “Boy, keeping a garden like that sure takes a lot of work.” And then I came home to the back porch and took a nap.

Now here I sit, clinging to the coattails of one of the most gratifying summers of my life. And, even though I’ll probably always be a sorry gardener, I understand myself much better now. And that’s mostly what this blog is about, after all.

P.S. Thanks to those of you who continued to check for new posts, or tracked me down through email, or kindly prodded, or outright scowled at me over lunch for depriving you of your blog fix while I was away.