Inch By Inch, Row By Row

I’m gonna make this garden grow. All it takes is a rake, and a hoe, and a piece of fertile ground. Inch by inch, row by row, someone bless these seeds I sow, someone warm them from below ’til the rain comes tumblin’ down…

Gardening is a life lesson. The whole kit and caboodle right there – from pulling those weeds, digging up those rocks, to preparing the soil – and, finally, planting the seeds.

And it’s never done until harvest time. There are weeds to pull, bugs to fight off, and tender care all summer long. Even after harvest it’s wise to clean up the garden, and maybe sow winter rye or something that will keep the soil in place over autumn into late fall.

Winter is the time to plan, and wait, but Spring comes upon us often fast and furious. The cacophony of insects, birds, animals, and mammals all jockeying for space to nest and begin the next generation to carry on.

Sometimes all the love and care in the world doesn’t keep blight away, or relieve stunted growth. Sometimes the weather is bad for weeks on end, and all you can do is start over, if there’s enough time left in the season, or hope next year will be better.

What is more hopeful than a seed, and a garden?

Inch by Inch, Row by Row




© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current



Another aunt, my Godmother, Aunt Francis, died on May 22nd. I called that morning to see if I could bring my mother for a visit that weekend, and her daughter told me she had just passed away.

I knew my aunts dying would be tough. I thought it would feel unbearable. I didn’t expect emotional silence.

Am I inured to death now? It’s where we’re all going, so I guess it’s the age-old question of why we’re even here.

Those of us who’ve rejected religion’s narrative determine our own meaning of life, and decide our ethics and morality through consequence.

I try not to hurt others because I know what it’s like to be hurt. I appreciate love, goodness, helpfulness, compassion, decency, respect, and a live-and-let-live approach as long as they’re not harming me or someone else – without their permission.

I see what hate, unkindness, disrespect, and unethical behavior bring, and do what I can to act from my best self.

Maybe Aunt Fran retains some consciousness, some sentience, outside of her body – and if so, I hope she’s with family who went before her.

Maybe it’s all a computer simulation as Elon Musk, and others, believe.

I know that life hurts – a lot. I also know there’s joy, gladness, goodness, etc., but the continued suck-ass elements of life overshadow life’s ease.

I’m sad about my Aunt Fran’s passing. I love her. I enjoyed her energy, her personality, her presence. I’m grateful she lived. She really lived – she didn’t merely exist. She was beautiful, humorful, and created beauty, order, and children, whom she got grandchildren from. She had many friends, and belonged to a community who mourn her passing.

You’d think I’d be used to a world where loss is as great as gain, if not greater, but it’s still wounding.

I used to think humans were unique that way, but we’re not. Apes, elephants, dolphins, whales, and many other species also grieve, and care about their communities.

We’re just along for the ride, however long it lasts, and I suppose it’s up to us to make it a worthy journey.




© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

Oh Deer!

English: A pair of (Odocoileus virginianus) gr...
English: A pair of (Odocoileus virginianus) grazing from a tree. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

August and September are melancholic for me.  I enjoy autumn, but I love summer. I mostly love the long summer days.  On the longest days, 9 p.m. saw the final light fading, as my side of the Earth turned away from the sun, and the early summer light made me feel happier.  But, the season is turning now, even though the humid August days belie what’s soon to come.

In July, I moved in with my boyfriend, and we’ve both been adjusting ever since, and trying to make it ‘our’ place, but I do not easily assimilate, which I suppose could be a strength in other circumstances.  Regardless, we’re living in a beautiful rural area, and I’ve seen more wildlife – alive and in road-kill form – than I had in the last several years.  Nearly every morning, and early evening, for instance, several deer graze on the far edge of the yard, near the tree line down in back of the house.  My boyfriend and I noticed a doe with three fawns this spring, and we’ve watched them eating nearly every day.  At first, the fawns mostly nursed while mama ate, but she was weaning them a few weeks ago.  She’d let them suckle for less than a minute and then shake them off – sometimes engaging in a sort of hip-hop dance getting them away from her.

Several weeks ago, mama deer came out with only two fawns over several days, and I was so sad that one of them must have died.  I imagined illegal hunters, and then maybe a coydog, or bob cat, or some other asshole animal, taking down the cute, innocent fawn.  Then, The Lion King, came to my mind, The Circle of Life song looped in my head over the next few days, and I moved onto acceptance in my grief cycle, when lo and behold, mama doe came out one morning with three fawns in tow!  My boyfriend and I wondered aloud what had happened.  He thought maybe it had been two deer families making separate appearances, and while that’s plausible, there’s only the doe and her three fawns out there everyday.  I thought the fawn must have been sick, and laid low for a while.

Which brings me to another thought: where the hell is their dad?  It must be rough for a single-doe family, raising three rambunctious fawns, while papa buck is out there – doing Goddess/God knows what – probably munching on fermented berries and fruits with all the other bucks, not getting back to the thicket until well after dark…

Then again, maybe some asshole mammal took daddy-buck out in the bloom of fatherhood.  The Circle of Life, indeed.




© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.