Everything good takes time, more's the pity.
I want instant progress.
I want to make hay while the sun shines.
I get frustrated because it's such slow going.
I see pretty, but what's that ugly thing lurking?
I want all ugliness gone, I want things finished,
magazine-worthy. Done and something new started.
The decades don't stretch ahead of me as they once did.
That doesn't stop me from wanting to create,
whether it's new recipes, new books, new gardens.
I have a partner in crime, thank God.
RH supports me in everything I want to create,
although he'd just as soon I stick to old recipes,
not try new ones.
This is our fifth home to create a garden in.
Think he's too old to make another garden?
Bah, think again!
He even picks tiny Japanese maples to plant,
two last spring that made it through the winter.
And a baby this spring, knee high to a tadpole.
He envisions a garden full of rare Japanese maples someday
and maybe being on the Tennessee Gardener show.
Will we live to see them reach shoulder high?
Will I ever learn to cook a masterpiece, without burning it?
Finish four more books and rewrite three?
Find the energy to investigate self-publishing?
Will our garden ever be the way we want it?
There will be obstacles along the way,
this last year proved that.
Bree-Bree will insist on trampling our flowers.
How could eleven pounds of dachshund hurt anything?
Mason will someday catch that pesky chipmunk
even if it means trampling a plant or two, or a dozen.
But a garden will grow, recipes will be mastered,
books will get written, a kitchen floor be replaced.
It won't happen in a day, but gradually, a day at a time.
"...as gradually as the tide lifts a grounded ship."
So says my friend C. S. Lewis.
Until then, Dewena, on the days when it seems as if you're
walking in molasses and sinking in quicksand....
remember to float until the tide lifts you.
Then row for all your might!