See How My Garden Grows

Image compliments of Free Spirit Fabric

 How I wish you could have seen my Portland, Oregon garden. By the time I waved it a teary farewell, it owned "cottage". Wild and lush, you could slip into it anytime but during winter's dripping slumber and it'd forever toss you bouquets.

I've valiantly attempted to reinvent myself as a subtropical, Zone-10 salt-tolerant girl, but the results are less than spectacular. I now appear deeply rooted mostly in the concept of a garden.

Oddly, at this same moment I've attained "Expert Status" with my Through the Garden Gate articles at EzineArticles.com.

Am I a poser?

"Wonk, wonk, wonk..."

You're right! My writing projects are my garden.

I've asparagus, aka Escaping Neverland, which takes two years (or more) to mature...

WENDY DARLING
(sighing heavily as she speaks into a cell phone)
How many times do I have to tell you? You're not lost! Just turn the car around.
(pause)
Yes, it's really that simple. Look, I've got to go. 
(hangs up) 
How do they keep getting my number?

I've radishes, aka The Monaco Don, which are famous for quickly approaching harvest...

JAKE
...Could I interest you in a glass of Cold Duck?

KELSEY
Cold Duck! Jake, that's so expensive! What's the occasion...Oh Good Lord, you did it, didn't you!?
(gleefully spins in a circle)
I can't believe it! I mean, I can believe it because I knew you could do it but...oh my gosh...Monaco!

I've the quickly multiplying but fleeting crocus, aka I Can Fix It. Fleeting isn't enough for some crocus, by the way. Certain of them refuse to truly step within your reach...

The edges are frayed,
Here's a tear,
It's unraveling there.

But I can fix it,
Mend it,
Let my needle fly through it. 

The light is gone,
Only shadows
And shattered fabric remain.

But I can fix it,
Mend it,
Let my needle fly through it. 

Put it down,
It is done,
Walk away.

?
?
? 

I've an ever-blooming rose waiting to be fertilized, aka A Shark's Tale...

I knew something bad was going to happen because I saw a shark in the leaves...the tea leaves. Although, I purchased Your Fortune In a Cup only a week ago so I couldn't yet call myself an oracle of the cup. I could be seeing a zebra for all I knew. I would have preferred that because I'd then be destined to begin a long journey by water...

Garden tours are a lovely diversion, don't you think? Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to find my garden gloves. I mean, my notebook.

Care to peruse my Through the Garden Gate Series? If so, click on the links below:

1. Through the Garden Gate with Vita Sackville West 

2. Through the Garden Gate with a Victorian Exotic 

3. Through the Garden Gate with the Ambassador of Love

4. Through the Garden Gate with Sunflowers

5. Through the Garden Gate with the Queen of Annuals

The Mark of an Educated Mind

It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it...Aristotle

Back in the days of The Ladies Tea Guild and our beloved quarterly, The Gilded Lily, I was apple, lime and kelly green. This lead to occasionally being cold cocked and rained upon. You learn quickly how to drop and roll and where the windshield wipers are. 

And you know you'll always be in for a surprise.

Take the Autumn 2001 issue of The Gilded Lily for instance. A Pleasurable Shudder, was the feature - a well-researched historical piece about the Victorian ghost story as a genre of writing. I was pleased with it.

My pleasure slightly dimmed after receiving emails from a woman threatening to cancel her subscription if..."this publication continued  featuring blatant non-Christian text."

Whoa, Missy! Hang on to your teacup! 

I didn't drop and roll. Rather, I grew taller.

A Pleasurable Shudder did not claim the existence of ghosts or mention my own thoughts on ghostly subjects. It didn't even express my irritation with ghosts refusing to show themselves despite my eagerness for an introduction. 

I was, "Just stating the facts, Ma'am."

It's hard to fathom those possessed of such delicate sensibilities. Even the facts of history set their hearts aflutter? Poor things.

But one of us here had to draw a line in the sand. I immediately sent a full subscription refund.

I bring this up as a friend offering pre-publication thoughts on Steeped fretted over the following lines:

Before going any further, I’m compelled to mention I find politics less than enthralling. Imagine a woman dressed in
high Victorian style sitting in an opera box, sighing as she occasionally gazes into lovely sterling opera glasses at the action below her. That woman would be me.

That said, I could not miss even a political tea party when it came to town. Not only could I not resist, I was fearful of missing something. After all, John Adams, had this to say of the Boston Tea Party:

“This is the most magnificent movement of all! There is a dignity, a majesty, a sublimity, in this last effort of the patriots that I greatly admire. The people should never rise without doing something to be remembered - something notable and striking. This destruction of the tea is so bold, so daring, so firm, intrepid, and inflexible, and it must have so important consequences, and so lasting that I can't but consider it an epoch in history.”
 
On the chance this Tea Party was indeed a “most magnificent movement” or an “epoch in history” in the making, I was determined to be on hand. And my expectations were high. Did I understand the original tea party was about taxation without representation? Absolutely. For the record, I did not expect the Eleanor, the Beaver, or the Dartmouth to be sitting at the water's edge. Neither did I anticipate men dressed as Mohawk Indians to be in attendance. Although, personally, I think costuming adds immeasurably to any event.

Her fear was some might find these lines offensive and, by association, myself as well. Really?

I realize my having long retained a private cabin on the Good Ship Lollipop sometimes leaves me in the lurch, but...really? Those lines are a small part of a larger essay having not a thing to do with politics? The essay is called Searching for Tea High and Low for heaven sakes! She said as she stood taller, thinking some need put their big girl panties on.

The text stayed put. 

And...I confess to having attended EVERY Tea Party held in my part of the world. Need it even be a confession? Really?

I had to go. It still pains me that I missed the Boston Tea Party. 

But beyond that...how often do you get to experience news in your own backyard with the opportunity to form your own first hand opinion? I'd hate to be the only one saying, "Well, I saw it on TV but...." What if John Adams was right?

I'm sure Aristotle was right. And I think he would have love Steeped.

That Autumn 2001 issue of The Gilded Lily is still available, by the way, at Glily.com

We're Having None of It

Picture this...

I've been writing all morning and, like Van Gogh, have been "hard at it...with the enthusiasm of a Marseillaise eating bouillabaisse". 

I make a cup of the luscious Big Red Robe oolong I'm lately enamored of. Steamed asparagus and arugula rolled in thinly sliced roasted turkey - delicately peppered - waits for my lips. And Fritos.

I now plant myself, legs outstretched, in front of the television. I'm alone so I can flip through channels to my heart's content. 

And then, just as the intoxicating bouquet of Big Red Robe discovers my nose, Julian Bond, Chairman Emeritus of the NAACP, begins talking.

Referring to the Tea Party he says, "They are the American wing of the Taliban."

The asparagus-arugula-turkey-roll falls from my hand into the Fritos, Fritos dive into my Big Red Robe lobbing Big Red Robe drops pretty much everywhere.

I am saucer-less! Actually that's another story...

I am speech-less! And now restless with discontent. No, that's not quite right. I'm %{(*&@!<+% white hot, storm-producing enraged. 

And yet, blowing up something or beheading someone never occurs to me.
 
As a matter of fact, I pause to consider why I would waste lunch, a lovely cup of tea and outrage worthy of an audience on a man whose speech renders him worthy of nothing but my ridicule. 

History for starters. At this moment, specifically suffrage. 

It's long been a strategy of those in opposition to vilify a grass roots movement gaining recognition. When unruly suffragists would not behave as expected - refusing to stop picketing the White House, for instance - they were spoken of as Bolsheviks, dangerous to national security, unpatriotic, unnatural...women who might eat their own children given the chance. They were also beaten and jailed and, as we know...

Although pleased with my critical thinking and ability to make historical correlations, my ire is fueled by Bond's blatant manipulation. At the risk of the truth to be sure, but the offense goes beyond that. 

Those who manipulate - for whatever reason - see themselves as smarter than you, as knowing better. They see you as...less. Collectively, you and humanity are controllable. Like a vast herd of sheep.

And that? Well, we're having none of it. We're not beginning a hunger strike or anything but...we're having none of it.

In Need of a Lie Down

I planted myself at the beach this afternoon where I realized such activity was foolishly long overdue. These lines came to me...

I'm weary of weaving webs,
Of energizer bunnies
And salad spinners.
I want to lie me down,

Be covered with lettuce,

A rabbit foot in my pocket
And listen to the song a spider sings.

 And now? It's teatime.

The List of 25

On FB and in magazines I've lately been seeing people share 25 Things People Don't Know About Me. It got me thinking.

First off, there's the risk of sharing too much. But even greater is the risk of sharing such mundane bits of personal trivia that people associate your List of 25 with nap time. Does reading I now put sugar only in my morning tea cause you to yawn?

Are there those who, upon reading such a list, believe they now know you? Will some attempt to use such information to corner you in conversation? "Wowsa, Laurie. You ARE uncomfortable by that old wooden wheel chair!"

Upon deciding to develop my own list, I immediately ran into glitches running deeper than "Who Cares!" Will some feel betrayed you never shared such details with them? Will they despise having to read the List of 25 with the rest of the world? What if they develop their own List of 25 about you more insightful than your own!?

On the chance you want to develop your own List of 25, know it takes longer than you might think. My own required much waffling. Vastly different than waffles, which I love - especially when all the holes fill with butter.

ANYWAY... 
25 Things People Don't Know About Me....

I... 

1...was the youngest baby to survive open-heart surgery in 1959.
Figured beginning with a biggie would keep you reading 

2...have been doing yoga for 35 years. 

3...always quit exercise classes.
Wasted much money on this discovery 

4...am phobic about touching cigarettes.

5...remain amazed I became a public speaker.
I used to be quite shy...truly.  

6...am fascinated by serial killers. 

7...am 90% grey.  

This could be a vicious rumor but it'll be years before we know for sure.

8...wake up almost every night at 2 a.m.

9...will never eat sushi.  

I mean never.   

10...could live on crab and creme brulee.
With a smattering of mashed potatoes occasionally thrown at me 

11...always drink coffee on tea event days.
I am not a traitor! 

12...currently am working on two plays, one short story and one eBook. 

13...salivate at the mere thought of soy sauce.

14...must make my bed, even if it's right before I get in it.

15...could care less about diamonds but have more opals than one woman needs.

16...once accidently turned my dryer on when my cat was in it.

17...faint occassionally.

18...still like Love's Fresh Lemon perfume best.

19...was a massage therapist for 18 years and am working on returning to it.

20...have used mostly my own homemade skin care products for over five years now.

21...have a great love affair with essential oils. 

Ah...Ginger! Lavender! Rosewood! 

22...am not good with improv or snappy comebacks. 

Always need a script or a moment! 

23...do not feel I'm an actress.

I'm a story teller! 

24...could easily be a hermit.

25...am losing my passion for gardening.

26...had my babies at home.
Sorry...found myself on a roll

Hey! Wake up! Are you still here? 

A list of 25 Things You Should NEVER Know About Me might have better held your attention...;)