I thought I might try a self portrait in my fall garden for my profile pic since I've changed a little since 1960 when my current profile pic was taken. Didn't really come up with one I felt like having in the profile but thought I might use it for this post. I took some pics of my secret seat this morning which show the crepe myrtle's fall color. The one of me that I took this afternoon was too close to get much of the tree. It is funny how this blog has ended up in large part being me and my garden and the aftershock of getting melanoma. Maybe funny isn't the right word. I often use funny when I mean odd. Sometimes oddities are funny but sometimes they aren't. I remember a charcoal my dad did when he was in the hospital of an orchard in a urinal. That was odd and funny. I miss my Dad's sense of humor. That isn't a great example
of his sense of humor because he could be quite sophisticated. Maybe the mix of silly and sophistication was part of his charm. He could almost always make me laugh although I'll admit I was a little pissy with him about some of his humor which pushed my buttons. I understand the older I get and the older my daughter gets, why he didn't always have much patience with my thinking he went over the line with some of his humor. For one thing, he never directed it at people who would be hurt by it, at least not when they were around. I find myself at times amazed when I think my daughter is lecturing me about something I cared about before she was born. I realize it was like that with my Dad. I ended up with my Dad's journals and I've never quite been able to decide whether it was okay
to read them. I've started to several times but always felt uneasy. I remember one entry that made me melt into a total puddle. We had gotten into a tift over something silly and my Dad had written about how he had to stop baiting me. He mentioned that he was immature and then he said, God I love those two so much (referring to me and my daughter). I know that he knew how much I loved him and I know that he knew that his maturity level was actually quite high in the important ways. I think that part of why that entry always stopped me from reading further is that I didn't want to think of him as having pain from feeling like he was goading me when it was all so silly and never amounted to much. It's not that I think he dwelled on it. I
don't. However, I know how I tend to dwell on things in my life and it somehow boils down to doing the best that we can. The top part of my largest oak tree is FINALLY the fiery red I've been waiting for. The lower branches are stil a mix of red and green but the top part is bursting with color. Won't be long now before the leave are all lying around patiently waiting for someone who cares to rake them. I care enough to try to keep from having wet leaves on the places people have to walk to get to my doors, including me. Nothing like slick leaves to trip the unwary meter men and women who run from house to house. I think the gas and electric services must give commission based on speed or something like that. In recent years I notice them running in between the houses they check. That would be a tiring job to have, particularly as you get older. I fear that they may be held to unreasonable standards or they wouldn't jump out of their trucks and take off running.
I thought I might try a self portrait in my fall garden for my profile pic since I've changed a little since 1960 when my current profile pic was taken. Didn't really come up with one I felt like having in the profile but thought I might use it for this post. I took some pics of my secret seat this morning which show the crepe myrtle's fall color. The one of me that I took this afternoon was too close to get much of the tree. It is funny how this blog has ended up in large part being me and my garden and the aftershock of getting melanoma. Maybe funny isn't the right word. I often use funny when I mean odd. Sometimes oddities are funny but sometimes they aren't. I remember a charcoal my dad did when he was in the hospital of an orchard in a urinal. That was odd and funny. I miss my Dad's sense of humor. That isn't a great example 
of his sense of humor because he could be quite sophisticated. Maybe the mix of silly and sophistication was part of his charm. He could almost always make me laugh although I'll admit I was a little pissy with him about some of his humor which pushed my buttons. I understand the older I get and the older my daughter gets, why he didn't always have much patience with my thinking he went over the line with some of his humor. For one thing, he never directed it at people who would be hurt by it, at least not when they were around. I find myself at times amazed when I think my daughter is lecturing me about something I cared about before she was born. I realize it was like that with my Dad. I ended up with my Dad's journals and I've never quite been able to decide whether it was okay
to read them. I've started to several times but always felt uneasy. I remember one entry that made me melt into a total puddle. We had gotten into a tift over something silly and my Dad had written about how he had to stop baiting me. He mentioned that he was immature and then he said, God I love those two so much (referring to me and my daughter). I know that he knew how much I loved him and I know that he knew that his maturity level was actually quite high in the important ways. I think that part of why that entry always stopped me from reading further is that I didn't want to think of him as having pain from feeling like he was goading me when it was all so silly and never amounted to much. It's not that I think he dwelled on it. I 
don't. However, I know how I tend to dwell on things in my life and it somehow boils down to doing the best that we can. The top part of my largest oak tree is FINALLY the fiery red I've been waiting for. The lower branches are stil a mix of red and green but the top part is bursting with color. Won't be long now before the leave are all lying around patiently waiting for someone who cares to rake them. I care enough to try to keep from having wet leaves on the places people have to walk to get to my doors, including me. Nothing like slick leaves to trip the unwary meter men and women who run from house to house. I think the gas and electric services must give commission based on speed or something like that. In recent years I notice them running in between the houses they check. That would be a tiring job to have, particularly as you get older. I fear that they may be held to unreasonable standards or they wouldn't jump out of their trucks and take off running.
1 comment:
Carver,
I'm so impressed with your North Carolina foliage. We New Englanders always think we have the market cornered on autumn color but you're proving that wrong with these photos.
JMart
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