Herban Sprawl

It is early morning, that time of day when all is quiet and the street hasn’t acquired the hum of traffic. Instead of a spiral bound notebook and a tiny book light, I write on a notebook with a lighted screen. How things have changed! I never would have imagined it.

Meanwhile the drought in our corner of the country continues and I feel guilty about running the sprinkler, but today it must be done. I was looking out at the mess in the back yesterday and a groundhog was waddling through my herb garden. I banged on the window and he scuttled on up the hill. He’s younger than the old one who got to be the size of a small bear! He’s eaten my marigolds, designed to be hateful enough to discourage critters from attacking my parsley. The parley is stubble, so I’m still buying parsley at the store. Tsk.

Everywhere I look, I have overgrown shrubbery and every time I think my knees will be okay to clamber around with the loppers and shears, I lose my nerve. When you know a condition is going to get worse because it’s just going to, you can either give up and stay in, or you can get some courage and carry on. It’s the latter I’m having trouble with. Time to just suck it up and take care of business.

That seems to be the overriding theme for everyone in my circle. From a friend who has divorced but still needs to settle the division of property and finances, to another one who needs to figure out how to arrange for long term care of a loved one. From a relative who wants a divorce to get done and over with, to yet another who needs to move out of a derelict apartment complex. Whatever the issue, it’s a matter of sucking it up and getting things done, or coming to an agreement, and none can get off the dime.

Is it the fear of moving forward or is it the fear of uncovering some truth that is even more painful? Could it be simple procrastination, which is never really simple after all? We are all caught in our own fears, whether it involves physical discomfort, or even worse, emotional pain, and it is ever so hard to overcome.

The dogwood already has some red leaves, and some of the hostas are looking decidedly peaked. The hoses will hum with activity today because I’m not willing to bet the leftovers of a hurricane will bring us the gift of rain. That’s what will help me tuck my fear of doing something stupid on the hill into an envelope. The plants need me and one should never turn one’s back on the helpless. Life is like that. It’s a drought or it’s a deluge and there is always someone or something that needs protection from it, no matter the personal cost. Eventually we take care of business, pain and all.