On Seedlings, and The Sea

Dear Friends,

I’ve been away from the blogosphere these past several weeks. My apologies, but there have been many fires to put out and nothing good to share with you that could fill a blog post. From now on, I’ll post here once a week, and the posts will be shorter, but at least they will be more consistent in their timing.

One of the only bright spots in these last weeks has been that the seeds I started a few weeks ago actually sprouted. Until that first tiny shoot of green showed itself above the soil, I didn’t realize how much I doubted my ability to grow anything. Just when I desperately needed something to go right and to receive some semblance of hope for the future (it really has been that bad, but I will spare you the details), the first eggplant seedling showed itself. Now there are Italian heirloom (sweet yellow) peppers, Bull Nose peppers (bell, sweet) like the ones grown by Thomas Jefferson at Monticello, French eggplant (they will bear pretty white fruits with purple stripes, hardly bitter at all), and traditional eggplant for my dad because he wants to make eggplant parmigiana. Since I eat what he makes, I am happy to grow the main ingredient. 

It was the first sign that things were going to turn around. The rhythms of nature also help slow me down. People who know me comment on my “clock speed”. One person said that I was like a dog in that one year seems like seven to me. My sense of time is accelerated, and everything seems to take forever and a day. It can drive those around me crazy, but it’s worse inside me. It’s almost painful to wait for everyone and everything to catch up. Still, this garden thing has helped with my little peculiarity. I look every day, usually more than once a day, to see what progress the little starts have made. It seems a reflection of what I've known for a while, that we are too far removed from nature and its rhythms anymore, and technology has gone beyond serving us and has become our master.

Taking a break from social media was necessary for me. It is becoming such a trend to do so lately I wonder if Facebook's board of directors didn't choose an astoundingly bad time in their brief history to go public. That remains to be seen, but that is where my suspicions lie. 

A couple of weeks ago I ran across this lovely quote from Isak Dinesen, the author of “Out of Africa” among many other literary wonders, on Pinterest, and I wanted to share it with you:

"The cure for anything is saltwater--sweat, tears, or the sea."

 It reminded me how much I miss San Diego, specifically how much I miss the ocean. Falling asleep to the sound of the waves coming and going is one of the most curative experiences I have ever known. I miss the salt air, the sunshine, and the easy-going culture. Who wouldn't prefer the sea over the other two forms of saltwater?

Lately lots of sweat and tears, two out of Dinesen’s three, but the payoff is on its way. By the end of February, I hope to have e-published my first non-fiction project and a short story, unrelated to each other. It's just the way the timing worked out. And then there are the seedlings that hopefully will continue to thrive followed by the five kinds of tomato seeds I look forward to starting in March. And then the next writing project after the current two have been birthed. 

Thanks to all whom have stopped by and commented and sent new friends my way. Best regards to all of you. 

See you next week! 

Cheers, 

India