Shedding Skin

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come."

--Joseph Campbell

As I sat in a long meeting last week, I began to lose focus, and my mind and eyes started to wander. I looked down at my crossed legs, following them down to my shoes. Horrified, I saw that the sole of my right shoe had separated from the upper, running from the mid-point of my big toe down to the beginning of my arch.

"Not another pair!" I howled internally. But then my thoughts quickly shifted to panic. I started to fixate on what might happen when I left the meeting. Would the upper completely tear away, leaving me with the top of my foot covered, but my sole left behind? (I shuddered to think of the pun and the metaphorical implications of this.) How embarrassing would that be? "There's Becky, the ragamuffin," everyone might think, which would be horrible since I always used to be so particular about my appearance and still think I am. I tried to imagine the best way to walk in the damaged shoe so as to minimize the chances of it disintegrating on me. Limp? But then I was afraid that would call attention to my foot and the offending footwear. I thought it best just to take my chances and walk as nonchalantly as possible back to my desk. Thankfully, I made it back safely.

Ultimately, I was especially disappointed about the shoes, not because I love them all that much, but because I don't want to buy a replacement pair. You see, those shoes don't represent who I am anymore. They don't fit in with the life that is waiting for me, and to purchase a replacement pair, to me, is tantamount to waving the white flag or, as Campbell might put it, ignoring the hero's call. I'll just have to plan my wardrobe differently for a while to accomodate my declining shoe selection. My friend at work made a completely reasonable and valid point when I mentioned this plan to her. Of course, I probably will eventually want to go out somewhere and will need some nice brown casual shoes to wear. I can't just go out to dinner in garden clogs with Turfman (the husband). She's completely right. I can't see them as just another pair of shoes right now, though. My only fear is that, soon, I may have to come to work barefoot, and that's another thing that's only acceptable if your office is the garden.

Thankfully, I got to log quite a few hours in my second office this weekend, both shod and unshod. The corn is tasseling now, so I took a few minutes every couple of hours to give the plants a little shake, sending a light pixie dust of pollen down to the silks below. As the tomatoes begin to slow down production, the eggplants are really beginning to bloom prolifically. I'm hopeful that this time I'll get a lot more fruit and that I don't have to resort to using what I refer to as "The Tickler" to get it. After one of the neighbors called to have a beehive removed, I have struggled to get really good pollination in my vegetable garden, so a small craft paintbrush is my pathetic stand-in for those wonderful creatures.

Corn update

The lettuce is now going to seed, and I'm waiting to collect the seeds for an attempt at growing lettuce indoors. We've enjoyed our daily salads so much that we are somewhat saddened to see the warmer weather arrive. In anticipation of their ultimate demise, however, I happily planted jalapeño seedlings between the lettuces. My mouth starts to water every time I think of the abusively hot pickled peppers I'll make from their bounty.

The garden memorial to Wolfie is coming along, too. Thanks to suggestions from my readers, I've been working on something that seems right. In the secret garden, I have placed a small paver with a set of paws and "Forever in Our Hearts" etched on it. I planted the Gloriosa-superba "Rothschildiana" from Brent and Becky's Bulbs on the trellis behind. And yesterday I found a metal dog statue that is a solar light, and he now sits behind the paver. I can view this portion of the garden from my bedside window. It was comforting last night to look out and see it glowing, and I was pleased to find it still lighting the darkness when I woke up this morning. A very special reader has contacted me to offer up Daffodil bulbs in memory of Wolfie, as well, so if all goes right, they'll be coming up next year just around the time we said goodbye, which will be especially poignant. Now I can sit out on the swing in the garden and still feel his presence near.

Wolfie's spot

The life that is waiting for me is in the garden. And if the shoe fits...

My new skin...with ladybugs!

Giveaway update: Thanks to everyone who made suggestions about the trellis! And thanks to Turfman reaching into a hat to pull out a piece of paper for me yesterday, I'm happy to announce that Kerry is the winner of my first giveaway! I'm especially happy that it worked out this way since I somehow removed her comment from my blog when replying to it and had to repost it. Sorry about that again, Kerry.

Be sure to visit next week when I have a seed giveaway!