The Reluctant Gardener


They call them “volunteer plants”. Perfectly good seeds that sprout in random places without the help of a deliberate seed sower. For the life of me I can’t imagine why a perfectly good tomato seed would “volunteer” to grace the rocky slope in my back yard. But there it was, thriving midst the weeds when my grandson found it!

Much too great a treasure to be tossed, he rescued it from the weed heap, roots intact, presenting it to be potted! With every single ounce of green in me (single ounce pretty much describes it!) we managed to find an empty paint pail, some unused potting soil where I had buried other plants alive, and a tomato cage to support what would, or at least should, become a bushel of plump rosy fruit!

The first few days were touch and go, the poor plant’s limbs drooping over its wire cage. I’m sure by now it realized the dreadful mistake it had made choosing my yard. I think I even heard its faint screams…”help meeee”…pleading, as only a failing tomato can, for someone to rescue it! I watered it, moved it into the sun, then to the shade, feeling a bit like a new parent. What to do? Too wet, too dry? I didn’t expect it to survive, but I was determined, mostly for my grandson’s sake, who would be back in a few weeks to tend the lawn again, no doubt eager to examine the budding life left in my charge.

I don’t know quite how to explain it. A miracle maybe? Just two weeks later, that limp little tomato plant has beaten the odds and even has three plump green globes…real tomatoes…to show for it! Not that I can take any true credit for this amazing turn of events. I am, after all, a notorious serial plant killer! But a bit of natural intervention, the rain…the overcast skies…the stifling humidity of the past few weeks were perhaps not sent to torment me, but to save that little plant from doom and to teach me something about myself.

The lesson? Before owning…believing the negative labels I tend to give myself based on the past, I should take my cues from Nature who presents us with mornings every…single…day…that are new and full of potential, where anything is possible…even tomatoes from a reluctant gardener like me…

…and I’m thinking out loud here…I just might want to plant a few tomato plants of my own when next season comes around! 😊

~ kat…”budding grasshopper gardener in training” (formerly known as “notorious serial plant killer”) ~ Summer 2015


at 3 am


i rouse from
dreamy rem,
at that un-godly
hour, 3 am…
with mountain
summits looming
made of feet.
through bleary
goo i squint,
and squirm to
gain some
equilibrium,
then drop my toes
to floorboard so
to wander room
to room…to grab
a pee, perhaps
a cuppa tea, whilst
solving universal
problems in my
head. i’m brilliant
then, at 3 am,
though i suspect
that things are not
as lucid as they
seem…perhaps it’s
best to leave this
hour to demon
play, return myself
to bed, count
sheep…count
sheep…count
sheep…perchance
to dream…
kat at 3am july 11, 2015


Fear for Heaven’s Sake

IMG_3924

You say heaven as
if it is the be all end
all of existence. As
if to be denied entry
is the most dreaded of
all things to dread.

Some do live this
life paying dues for
eternal entry into
sprawling mansions…
their names etched in
gold at the gate. While
some live life on
heaven’s fire, wildly
loving, rejecting egoistic
edicts scribbled in
ancient tomes by
fearful men.

Eternity, after all, is
neither here nor
there, but once
upon and now and
then, a candle burning
at two wicks to
be consumed when
end meets end.

kat ~ july 9, 2015


Dream Apocalypse

dream
It’s an unsettling thing, you’d
no doubt agree, when
a dream taps you square
on the shoulder.
With nose to the stone
we’re often persuaded, to
shutter away silly
dreams of our youth.
Best left forgotten…
forgotten, except for
that tap, tap, tap,
tapping, insistent, annoying.
Some dreams are like
zombies, bypassing our
brains, intent on
devouring our hearts.
kat ~ July 2015

Decisions…Decisions…Decisions!

Like waiting…
for paint
to dry…or
water to
boil….or ice to
melt. Take your
pick…whichever
fits…no! Never
you mind…
sometimes, all
I really need
to know
is what
you’d like
for dinner!

kat~2015