Monday, September 03, 2007

Of Rocks & Hard Places

I love flowers more than just about anything but even I get bored with gardening once in awhile...
A couple of summers ago, I attended a lecture by Aron Ralston, a talented athlete who lost his arm in a horrific climbing accident. He has a remarkable sense of humor. As he walked up on stage, he announced he'd be giving a lesson on how to be a pirate (i.e. Captain Hook.)

Inevitably during the Q&A, he gets a person in the audience giving him a hard time for taking risks. If he could be content watching tv in the safety of his living room, he'd have two good arms to show for it. Ralston's comeback to such comments is pretty inspirational: I don't call that living, he says. I'd have to agree.

Contrary to popular belief, I do not have a death wish. In fact, I have a very low threshold for pain (which is probably why I never got remarried.)

I am ultra, ultra cautious about doing things where I can get hurt. I don't do things to scare myself. I do things that frighten other people. I was chatting with an old friend who called me to catch up. Her Labor Day activities consisted of checking out a new restaurant.

My day started out with mountain biking in the morning and racing a horse back to the stables at a dead gallop, last night, when a lightening storm hit without warning. Ellen threw a fit.

"Well, of course, I was scared," I said to her. "That's why we were running so fast!"

When I hung up the phone, I felt kind of sad. I have changed, I thought to myself. More than I care to admit. I have nothing in common with my old friends and that pains me beyond words. There have been many days, lately, when I miss them. Yet, when I'm with them I have nothing to say.

Ellen thinks I am lacking in common sense. I believe I am suffering from an overly-optimistic attitude.

When I first moved to Park City, I emailed Gurney's and Burpee ~ the only garden companies I knew. Both said nothing grows here. So, I visited the local nursery and she told me very little grows here, too. (Which kind of makes me wonder why she doesn't put that damn place up for sale so I can embark upon my dream career!)

I have discovered that everything grows here, including me.

Nighttime temperatures are beginning to plunge. But, we've got 6 good weeks of planting ahead of us. And, so I look forward to the rustle of autumn.

Flowers are tougher than you think. (And, so are you.) Dig a hole. Plant something risky. And, mulch, mulch, mulch.

PS: If it dies; it died tryin.' Toss it in the compost pile and do it again.

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