Tag Archives: metaphor

Weeds

Weeds

My garden this year is reflecting a lot of how I’m feeling about my life at the moment. Nothing went the way I planned it.  Last year was lush and bountiful, but this year, not so much.  A lot of things are inexplicably dead.  The tomatoes are all rangy and bedraggled.  The zucchini were destroyed from the inside before they could produce more than a singular overgrown fruit.  Some of the seeds I planted turned out not to be the ones I thought I was growing.  A couple of the beds have become woefully overgrown with weeds.

But there are a few bright spots here and there.  The cherry tomatoes that I didn’t think I planted are starting to turn, ready to be cooked down into lovely sweet tomato jam.  And here and there the dozens of sunflowers that self seeded are putting on brilliant displays. (Now that I do a little research, they may be part of the problem, but I’m going to linger in the joy of them for this season at least.)  I have one lone fig on the fig tree I forgot to bundle up last year, and the apple trees are bearing their first fruit.  The overgrown beds can be recovered, and one of them I plan to turn into a winter bed for lettuces and other greens.  The tiny pepper plants are covered with snackable goodies just waiting to turn color.

So I cling to the metaphor.  Things are hard right now, I’m not going to lie.  It’s been hard to think about what to write here, as so much of it feels like it would just be me whining.  But I like writing, and not doing it contributes to me feeling poorly about myself.  My goal at the moment is to start picking up the posting here again, building up my stamina again until I can do Blogtober.  Can’t believe that’s only 6 weeks away!

So here I am, pulling weeds, uncovering treasures, and sharing them with others.  I missed you guys!