I’m finding it very hard to write these days.
First of all, I just can’t face the news anymore. I can’t stand the helplessness that I feel about guns, in particular. I dreamed the other night that I was shooting up Congress. I’m not kidding.
And I have never even touched a gun in my life.
Rage is so exhausting.
I’m also struggling with putting myself out there in my writing. I’ll be the first person to admit that I am a blogger, not a “writer.” I’ve never had a piece of fiction published, although I’ve sent a few things off.
It takes some internal courage to keep typing up this chatty little blog. It’s pretty personal, and its my limited attempt to keep myself feeling at least a little bit creative. It’s scary every time I hit the “publish” button, knowing that every typo will be out there. Every trite sentence will be read. People will read and react, and some will think it’s lame.
I recently had some very snarky, mean spirited comments posted about me and about this blog. Posted by someone I love and thought I could trust. It hurt more than it probably should have, and it shook me to the core.
But I need to get back on the bike, if you will. I can’t let someone else take this away from me.
I like writing. I like having this place to express myself. I thoroughly enjoy reading other blogs and being part of this community.
So here I am. I hope that those who find this blog silly, annoying, pointless or boring will do me the courtesy of just not reading it any more.
In light of all the negativity in the world right now, from the insanity of our President to the insanity of the NRA, I think I’ll write about the random nature of life.
I will write about my tomatoes.
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I picked these beauties in about 5 minutes yesterday. Aren’t they lovely? Don’t they look like a gardener actually planted them and took care of them and, you know, grew them on purpose?
Yeah.
But no.
I did plant some tomatoes last May. Right in my actual garden! Right in the soil that I had enhanced with manure and in a deep hole with the right additions. I staked them and I pruned them and I watered them. All 8 plants.
I harvested (ahem, cough, cough) a grand total of 4 cherry tomatoes.
Then I took a walk around the back of my house. You see, we had three huge pine trees cut down last fall. All kinds of new growth has sprung up where they used to cast their shade.
For almost 30 years I had a compost pile back there, in the area around those pines. But when they were cut, their limbs covered the spot, so I have started to compost indoors.
Welp. Lo and behold, while I was ignoring my backyard and letting it go wild, what looks like a veritable forest of tomato plants has taken over the old compost pile. Mixed in with black eyed susans and a lot of crab grass there are at least ten different tomato plants, and they are LOADED with fruit, of all sizes and shapes. All growing on the ground, all tangled in a heap, all overgrown.
Isn’t life random? So much for my illlusions of control.
Empty Nest, Full Life 
Nature will do what it wants, no doubt about that. I’m sorry that this is a low time for you and the blog, but please keep writing and sharing. I personally only read blogs that real, honest people write-meaning the ones who typically share about their days or nights or life and their ups and downs. I want to know how others live and think and function among the chaos…
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Thanks, Deb…Luckily, life gives us little things like crazy tomatoes to keep us engaged, right?!
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So many people love you and your writing. Focus on us! Forget the person who wrote the mean comments, perhaps for reasons having everything to do with them and nothing really to do with you. Your posts make a difference in my life, they are a gift and blessing.
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I swear, my friend, that I wasn’t fishing, I really wasn’t! I wish I had a harder shell, that’s for sure… Thank you!!!
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Keep on writing! We love to read about your life, your grandkids, yes, even when you have to put a beloved pet down.
You write for all of us, not just yourself, and we appreciate it.
Keep on keeping on.
And I love the volunteer tomatoes!
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Thank you! I can’t imagine higher praise than “you write for all of us.” I need to learn how to toughen up a bit, that’s for sure!
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Stuff that mean person! Your posts have moved me to absolute tears!! You are such a good & lovely writer, don’t doubt yourself. And had the same experience with my cherry tomatoes: such rubies of joy coming out of my compost pile 😊😊
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We had squash coming out of our compost pile. I told Mr. Zorba it would probably be inedible, because all squash interbreeds, including winter and summer squash, but actually, they were good, and they were definitely summer squash. They looked liked dark green and yellow striped, more or less patty pan squash. Probably a mixture of zucchini and yellow patty pans.
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I had no idea of that squash fact….isn’t it great how nature takes care of things for us!?
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Thank you, for your kids words and also for the tomato story! The only time I have grown an impressive pumpkin was when it came from the compost pile!
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I sympathize with your feelings of betrayal, but think of all the people who enjoy reading your posts. I agree with Embattled Farmers that the snark says something about the person who wrote it, not you. Keep writing; I know I’ll keep reading.
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I can’t tell you how much that means, truly!
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I love your writing and the irony of those tomatoes. Sounds like my flowers.
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My flowers, too! I have a patch of gorgeous tall phlox that planted themselves and are thriving.
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You are a writer – you write. You write from the heart. You connect with your readers! Think of your feral tomatoes as a metaphor for life – we keep on keeping on, cultivating our own backyard – and all the while, we have no idea what jewels, what beauty, we are creating without conscious input. Your blog inspires others- whether you are aware of it or not. Ignore the critics. Stick with us- the dreamers, the observers. xx
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Ah, I love the term “feral tomatoes”! Indeed, they are wild out there. Thank you: I promise I was not fishing, but I am so grateful for the support. I know that I need a thicker skin, but I don’t know how to shrug off such comments, especially when they were so unexpected.
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