As teenagers we did everything we could to break free of our parents. Now we do what we can to hang on for as long as we can.
Most of us who still have our parents are dealing with the emotions of seeing declining health and the frailties that come with old age.
Just this week, I came home from visiting with a friend whose father is now a dialysis patient, while her mother is battling Parkinson’s. When I sat down to catch up on some social media, I discovered an old friend’s father had passed. Yesterday, I spent the day transporting my parents to a medical facility. In middle age, hospitals, nursing homes and funerals become all too familiar to us.
Somewhere in our crammed schedules and busy lives, we need to find the time. Some things really can’t wait until another day.
It was a logical question. Why do I always plant fennel in a few of the pots on my deck? I’ve made some wonderful salads with thinly sliced fennel bulbs and blood orange, but for the most part I’m not a fan of the flavor. And yet every year without fail, I have pots of fennel, and by early July they have been gnawed back down to the ground.
The first year I planted fennel I noticed the plants were being eaten at an alarming rate. They were covered in what appeared to be dried bird droppings, but on closer inspection turned out to be tiny bugs of some sort. Could have sprayed them, but chose to leave them. The bugs rapidly grew, in direct correlation to the shrinking of the gnawed fennel, into amazing looking neon green, bright yellow and black worms. Intrigued, I took a photo and then headed in to the computer for a little research. In a short time I had my answer to what these creatures were, and several weeks later I was treated to the beautiful finale of their life cycle, the black swallowtail butterfly. They were everywhere!
Lessons learned: If you want beauty in your life, then you have to provide an incentive. At first glance something may look like a mar on what you are trying to achieve, but if you just wait it out the results can be way better than your original vision. Today’s pest may be tomorrow’s treasure.