Green Thumb


Sometimes the light's all shining on me,
Other times I can barely see..."


When we were searching for a home in the Ft. Wayne area there were only a few things I wanted. First, a family room with a fire place. Secondly, two full baths. And last but not the least by any stretch of the imagination....lot's and lot's of closets!

What I got was a beautiful landscaped yard with dozens of perennials.

I have managed in the course of two months is to almost ruin the yard with neglect. The only thing I have managed to do is to plant six tomato plants the second week of June. I have just recently seen the first fruits of my labor. Other than that, I cringe if the previous owner (who is a total sweetheart, and I'm certain I will write more about her in the weeks to come)comes calling to pay a visit to her beloved flowers and plants.

I planted the tomatoes very late in the season. By Kentucky standards, they are to be planted after Derby Day, the first Saturday in May. There is little chance of a killer frost after this date. And it stands to reason, I would be very late in planting the annuals!

The tomatoes are growing and need to be staked. Since I neglected to bring the cages with me from KY, I was in a bad way last week end.

Off to the local garden shop I go last Sunday praying they had something I could use. Once I arrive, I realize they are closing for the season. On the fence they have this notice:

WAGONS $15.

I am actually thrilled because the wagons are so great! They have those bright red plank sides! The drill is like this, you grab a wagon and pull it around the nursery and plunk your plants in the bed. Great idea and when I first discovered the place in June I loved it! I was excited to get a wagon for $15!! It was going to look so great filled up with flowers on the front yard.

Guess what? The wagon was not for sale!!!! What was for sale, was every plant, every hanging basket I could cram in that wagon......$15.

I was like a crazy woman. Once of the attending workers pointed at it and stated, "You can get some more in that corner". I'm not certain if she was being sarcastic, but you better believe I crammed some more stuff in.

All in all, I ended up with seven hanging planters and about twenty annuals.

I just got finished with all the planting. My beautiful back yard will be more beautiful in a couple of weeks.

A DEMANDING MISTRESS

Be forewarned, this is going to ramble. I am at a cross roads in my life and I know what I am going to do, I'm not certain it is the right thing, because it seems the easy way out. Doing the right thing usually hurts and requires a lot more integrity, stamina and character than I have right now.

I raised my voice to my boss today. Wrong thing to do. What was I thinking. Do I have a death wish? Did I crack? It was as if I slapped him! I won't go into all the horrid details, but I have had enough. I told him I felt I was in a hostile envioronment. He repeated the same questions over and over I thought I was going to pass out, I finally asked if we needed an arbrator.

I candidly told him ( because I felt bad making him think he was the total cause for my feelings of being an outsider, never to be admitted to the club) that when I interviewed for the job, I realized I did not want it. That it was a total shock to me when it was offered to me. I accepted because of the money.

I'm working at a job I hate because it pays me exceptionaly well. And I have a car. And terrific benefits etc. etc. etc. Yet, I am totally unhappy.

I was going to make a list of the Pro's and Con's as to stay with the job or quit. Quit. I am so ashamned of the word applied to me. As I drove home my biggest thought was, "I hope the Con list is longer." That told me right there that I was going to give my resignation.

This job and me are not a good fit. I loved what I did before, albeit I was bored to tears, I still loved it. I hate this job. H A T E.

The only good thing (besides the money) is Deep Throat. I hate to let him down.

Bridget Christening


The Stories of our Lives

I have just spent another week in the company of Deep Throat AKA the Renegade. When you spend nine plus hours a day with someone you find out quickly if you enjoy the company. The rewards of interesting people are vast and invigorating.

Inside all of us we have that handful of stories that we keep close and dear. How many reveling anecdotes we share depends on the person and the strength of the bond we are developing.

I listened to story after story this past week about D.T.'s childhood, his brothers, High School history, his marriage, his children, his job experiences, the formation of his views, and his philosophies about life, love and work. I was fascinated. And thoroughly entertained all week.

Driving home last evening I realized how much I was going to miss having a companion with me. I was especially going to miss those stories. Even if I did hear one or two of them twice.

The stories I have inside of me I have poured out and into this journal. I find that I am shy about articulating too much about myself, but I am brash with a keyboard!

When did I stop being cool?


The point in being cool is that it is effortless. If you try to be cool, then you're not. It is something you either have or you don't. Being cool is evident in various ways. It is an attitude. Sometimes it is all attitude. You don't care what other people think, you think for yourself. You don't follow trends, you follow what you want. Fashion is only what you want to wear and you wear it with style. It transcends generations. You never revert to using the current slang. A simple raised eyebrow, a gesture, silence. A cigarette held a certain way. You are at ease in a crowd. Yet, you are usually a loner.

The most famous of the cool come to my mind. James Dean. Marlon Brando in his prime. Peter Fonda in Easy Rider. Keith Richards. Joe Perry. Angelina Jolie. Sharon Stone. Katherine Hepburn. Lauren Bacall.

If I ever once felt cool, if ever in my life I thought that just maybe I meet the criteria, it has totally been destroyed by the pair of masculine Rockport I am forced to wear daily! My feet hate those shoes and look up at me asking..."Why?" I hate those shoes and the moment my time is done, in the parking lot before I roar towards home, I pull those ugly monstrosities off and slip on my pink flip flops.

If I were truly cool I would be able to wear them and not care a fig about it.

But alas, I am not.

Out with the old, in with the new

For someone who is so adamant about hanging on to things, I wish I were more committed to holding on to the people I have known in all the various places and stages of my life.

I have been kept so busy and occupied with my new job, that I hit the ground running every morning and fall into bed exhausted in the evenings. I have little spare time to miss things back home. Yet, when I do, I miss it in a big way. In a heartaching, tears pushing to gush out of my eyes way.

Over the years, my friends seem to revolve around those I work with. I suppose this is natural, because I am with them day in and day out. I begin to know everything about them, their wonderfulness, their weaknesses, their trials, their families, their dreams, their disappointments, their faults. I look forward to seeing them, and sharing my life with them as they do with me. I miss them so much, that it is hard to put into words. I guess I love them.

I have moved so often, that I have many enclaves of people I have left behind.

Beginning with my grammar school class, twelve of us beginning in first grade and finishing eight years together. When I went to a Catholic school on Lexington, most of them went to the local public high school. Naturally, our worlds no longer the same, they over lapped a little, but for the most part, we went our different ways.

My High School friends! Once it ended, I attended a college not one single person from my class applied to! Lost again.

College. What an experience I had in Western Kentucky. I have kept in contact with only one person (sometimes two) over the years. Every so often I run into someone, but it is few and far between.

Then my excessive and over the top job experiences! Oh my God! The wonderful, interesting, and lovable people I have encounter, befriended, loved, then lost.

Now I am starting all over again. A whole new set of people. The Turtle, (who incidentally is going to get his tater smoked once he returns from vacation, but that is another story)was my first friend in this new land. But, come to find out he was no friend at all! A wolf in sheeps clothing.

"Deep Throat" my new real friend, is as interesting as they get. I have been spending enormous amounts of time with D.T. since the Turtle is one vacation, and having a blast.

He is more like me, we have to work. It is not our lives! It does not obsess us nor overpower us. We know how the system works. We know how to play the game. And the game is CYA and cover for your buddies.

It is so sad to leave people behind. Finding new friends is the cure for that type of melancholy.+

SUMMER

Headwaters Park, Ft. Wayne Indiana

Summer means water. Pools, lakes, the ocean. And on this bright sunny hot summer day, it was the water fountain the gushed its ten foot plumes of water towards the brilliant blue sky as the group of children, and one dog, danced and ran through the its rainbow of rain and fun.

I took a lot of photo's of the children playing, but I found this one the most engaging.

It's Junk, but it's my Junk

It's very disconcerting that I have searched for a hour for a software program that I know I put in a safe place. It is part of my Operation Summer Projects. I have searched high and low. I am in fear I have transported it to the storage area I had to rent last week. I'll never find it in that dungeon.

I had to rent it. I have way too much stuff. I have a much smaller house to cram in all my precious things. The 300 square feet of "attic" space I had in my Kentucky home is a sweet memory.

I had a yard sale before moving here. I went through all my clothes....twice...and donated bags and bags to the big Christian church that gives it away to the needy. I still have way too many things.

I look at all the clothes that made the cut. I still have my beautiful red velvet sleeveless cocktail legnth dress, with white lace that I wore to the Sophomore Valentine dance. My first date. I remember my mother and I buying that dress from an exclusive dress shop in Lexington called Lowenthal's. I remember the day vividly because as we were crossing the street my mother went to take my hand and I jerked it away as if she had touched me with a blow torch. I'll never forget the look of hurt on her face. So I keep the dress to remind me of how much I love her, owe her, and what a Saint she is.

So, I can't get rid of that dress.

The clothes that I decide to keep all have similiar stories attached to them. It is insignificant that I will never be able to wear again. Maybe someday Bridget can open a museum with all the things I have accumulated. A vintage clothes store.

For the past thirty years I have been hauling around a large green garbage bag full of unframed prints. In the late 1970's I began seeing a guy who worked at a Frame Shop. He got me involved in purchasing prints and over the years I have built up a nice collection. I have several Coleach's, Charles Harper, Ray Harm, Paul Sawyer.

I should say "had". They got tossed by accident. (By you know who...Poo-Poo). I never should have stored them in an unseemly garbage bag! I was stunned and felt like my heart was breaking. I cried for an hour on the way to work.

In time I'll get over it. Two good things occurred from this tradegy. First, I am having all the artwork that survived framed! The survivors are mainly the photographs that I have collected. My Unauthorized Rolling Stone Concert 1981 shots are next.

Secondly, I found out I can survive the loss of things that I thought I could not live without.

Just barely.