25 things about me...

I guess if Jessica has succumbed to peer pressure I will too.

25 things about me…

It’s midnight and I’m eating a blueberry pop tart. It could be worse; it’s at least the organic variety.
I have been married as many years as not.
Our beagle likes to wake me up at 5:30 A.M. to tell me she’s thirsty. (I’m a mean “mom” and won’t let her have a big drink before bed time.)
I wanted to grow up to be an artist when I was in the 7th grade.
I’ve had 15 minutes of fame as the artist I wanted to grow up to be and didn’t like it all that much.
I have a hard time keeping silent about things I feel are unjust.
I like Obama.
I’m indecisive and it’s been my life’s work to correct that character flaw. I’m getting better… or maybe not… I just can’t decide! (c;
My husband’s name is Roger but I call him Jake. Long story…
My parents are divorced.
I am the eldest of four.
Lucky Charms is my favorite breakfast cereal unless I’m feeling like a grown up and then I’ll eat Special K with red berries.
I grew up on a farm.
I love the DIY channel.
Phenomenon is one of my favorite movies.
My eyes are green as well as my favorite color.
I prefer contacts to glasses.
I don’t like to watch sports unless my kids are participating in them.
I played the clarinet in the high school band.
I am one year away from having a degree in horticulture.
I like antiques and things that have a history.
Ice tea is my favorite drink outside an occasional Corona w/ lime.
My shoes are size eleven. It’s my dad’s fault; he’s 6’ 8” and wears a size sixteen!
I believe we need to take better of our earth and all its creatures.
I believe nice matters.

Too Busy?

Where have I been? Planting, weeding, watering, pondering, watching, creating, landscaping… The list is far too long and it took a nine year old boy with a milk mustache to recently yank me back to my reality with his comment of, “I was going to ask you for help but you were too busy.” Today we planted his lilies, which had been waiting patiently in pots for their place in the garden, allowing them to bloom and my youngest son to beam at the fruit of his labor.
So, yes I’m still here, Terri. I just needed a gentle reminder to not get lost in the mechanics of my purpose and remember that sharing the process is of equal or even greater merit than achieving the goal.

Seasons

It's spring and another planting season is here. Corey is watering the tulips that were planted the day our dear friend and neighbor was informed her battle with cancer, only recently discovered, had been futile. A sunny October day... just a matter of months and yet it seems a life time. I recall telling her that day I wished her another growing season -- fellow lover of nature that she was. My wish for her was not to be, as her final day came before the first of winter.

Today as Corey watered I thought of our friend and how I missed her. Some things so a part of our character, retired elementary teacher as she was, I could almost hear her voice exclaiming to him the wonderful job he had executed. And so she will live on in our hearts, our dear friend, Ruby, who recognized the potential in every child.

What's in a Name?

What's in a name? As parents we put a lot of thought into our children's names. We say them out loud over and over, considering everything from the reaction others may have upon hearing it to the way it would look on an office door. We consider family and tradition, our heritage, personal likes and dislikes, and frequency of use… "Aunt Hazel would be so proud if we named our girl after her... Hazel Nutt. Oops, scratch that!!" "No, not Eddie! He sat behind me in the fourth grade and constantly picked his nose!” Well maybe not, but you get my drift.

As I drive almost an hour, one direction, to class these days (What happens when you live in the middle of no where and school is south of nothing.) I’m allotted a great deal of thinking time, which for me is a good thing as personal thoughts seem a minimum at home. No less than three people generally requesting my time at once -- topics ranging from Day Light Savings Time, to saddling a T-Rex (Yes, it can be done with enough Velcro!), and why we can’t have soda with our lunch, just to name a few. Oh my, now I’m rambling, back to the original topic…

This past Friday, while traveling home, my thoughts skewed toward the importance of a name, especially when it involves necessity of patronage to encourage growth, and suddenly I got a “wild hair” to reconsider the name of our nursery. As I mentioned, public opinion has tendency to sway our decisions and in business can be critical, and so begins my informal “pole” (sorry, inside joke) or poll… Keeping in mind my play on words I’ll leave you with your three choices to vote from: 1.) Wild Hare Farm, 2.) Gray Hare Farm, 3.) Late Bloomer’s Nursery.
Don’t be shy! Voice your opinion and we’ll see if it compares to friends and family who have already voted.

Thirty Years

Almost thirty years before this photo was taken of Corey and Buddy, a seventeen year old girl and her big sorrel gelding were striking a similar pose for her “senior picture”, as she approached her high school graduation. A girl, who at the time, had her mind set on the next leg of her journey being that of her as an animal science major (more specifically, equine) at a neighboring community college, not quite sure of where her aspirations would lead her. The only goal she was positive of, being that of securing a vocation which would leave her embedded in the only life she had ever known and had grown up loving. Life on a farm.
Circumstances sometimes force a shift in our goals, changing needs and blurring aspirations, altering the course of our lives. What rarely changes through out it all are our passions. The parts of our personality defining our character, often times leading us in directions we aren’t even conscience of at the time.
If you’re wondering by now where all of my philosophical meanderings are leading to in this post, it’s to the topic of karma. A subject of little consideration to me in the past. But while striving toward current objectives, I reflect on the conditions that have brought me here, and find it worthy of contemplation when considering the future.
You see, I am back to where I began. The college I attend, now as a horticulture major, seeking the education I consider necessary to secure my goal, is that same little community college I aspired to attend almost thirty years ago. The goal has not changed as I still love the farm and the promise of its existence. My passion of nature, and the wonderment it brings, handed down to my children.
Still wondering where karma comes in to play? As fate would have it, the head of the horticulture department where I now attend hinges his teaching practices on a philosophy of student led learning. The younger sibling of a man with special needs, his goal for his undergraduates to leave his instruction with knowledge detailed to their own requirements as well as curriculum specific. And if that’s not convincing enough, my Ag Chemicals instructor is the same man who would have supervised my education in equine science all those thirty years ago. Whether by my own hand or that of fate, late bloomer that I am, it seems I am now exactly where I was meant to be.

H.A.L.O. Valentine

Make a free ecard - it's easy!

"What are We Doin' Next, Mom?"

A constant in my life is my eldest son's question, repeated a myriad of times each day, "What are we doin' next, Mom?" Fairly standard stuff if you don’t think about it. But for me the utterance of each response holds potential of all importance, as you see, the answer to Corey’s eminent questions are fundamental in his world, preparing him for transition, determining his days, shaping his life.
As children mature the verbiage of their questions often changes. The pronouns of their query typically shifting from we to I and their willingness of acceptance in our answers seldom a given. Challenging as it may be for us (and them) this,
I suppose, is what our ultimate goal has pretty much been from day one; to produce independent, problem solving souls, who question life and their ability to shape their own destiny.
At nineteen, my second born has not made this transition in thought, his questions of “what’s next” still including “we”. Irony playing a significant role in our grown up relationship -- the memory of my anxiety over whether or not he would ever be capable of independence of his father and I still fresh in my mind, as I lay the foundation for his future. My answers now more significant than ever before as they affect so much more than just our timing for lunch or if we will be stopping at the store today.
The “seed” for Late Bloomers has lain dormant for a number of years, a personal vision of sorts, just waiting for development. A year ago, when Corey was asked as he approached the end of his high school career, what it was that he wanted to do when he grew up, he answered with the confidence of a valedictorian, “A farmer. I want to be a farmer.” And so Late Bloomers seed was planted -- a little bit about farming, a little more of gardening, and a lot about the inclusion of an entire family and community.

I guess our little blog spot makes us official... sort of like a secret once you've said it out loud.
A bunch of 'late bloomers', not at all like the seeds you start in a sunny window in February that grow so fast.
And so we shall begin...