“Carole, you should work some R & R into your schedule. Try it you might like it,” my husband Tony says repeatedly.
I have to laugh, “My life is nothing but R & R now,” I gibe.
I know he refers to rest and relaxation. I pretend we are on the same page but my thoughts go to re-arrangement and revision.
The pleasure received while I play in the garden or therapy while I create with words share many of the same challenges and rewards.
Fall is the perfect time to plant. If I am pleased with the results come spring, I’ll plant more of the same. I may decide to re-locate or transplant, give some a new residence. They may occupy too much space, be tall, invasive, or just not what I expected. So, out they go to be re-placed. This is the crux of my fun in the sun, re-design and the freedom to discard. Getting my hands dirty puts me in touch with nature and with God. Writing my thoughts on paper enables me to share them and re-connects me to the simple but memorable impressions on my heart.
Both hobbies require neatness, tall plants hug the fence or wall to create a setting. Staggered medium size varieties offer character and borders normally flourish all through the fall season. I find them all ideal to carry on dialogue among the growth and with the gardener.
Particularly, this fall, the early cool temperatures brought confusion and also to the flowers. Many bloom as profusely as if it is still spring. Some are begging to be moved.
Writing is another daily practice. When I proof or re-read, I may eliminate a paragraph, Like the toss of a straggily plant, I delete unnecessary words. Lack of flow can cause a major revision.
Again, I draw the parallel.
An over-crowded garden won’t hold an audience any more than a rambling ill attempt at prose or poetry.
Whether in the garden or at my desk, both life-long interests are rewarding and unselfish, I think. The goal is to entertain not only myself but others.
When it comes time to market, I get back the effort expended. Reap what I sow.
An un-expected surprise follows one of the hottest, driest summers on record. I hope my words create a small comparison to the orange, red, and umbrella copper trees visible just beyond my window.
“Who knows what tomorrow may bring,” I said to my husband. “Re-arrangement and revision, most certainly. Rest and relaxation, I promise to work on that.”