Heading down the garden path

"My passion for gardening may strike some as selfish, or merely an act of resignation in the face of overwhelming problems that beset the world. It is neither. I have found that each garden is just what Voltaire proposed in Candide: a microcosm of a just and beautiful society." 

— Andrew Weil

AUBURN — It is spring and my beloved garden looks like the town dump.

But my 20-by-40 foot garden has been a dumping ground for organic matter that will enhance the soil at the end of May when planting season arrives in Maine.

For the past six months, I have tossed in coffee grinds, ash from the wood stove, buckets of peels, seashells, dozens of fallen apples and mulched grass and leaves.

All this organic waste has been decomposing in my garden throughout the winter. It is a disgusting, soupy mix that helps my vegetables grow into healthy producers without the aid of pesticides and dubious fertilizers. 

So I begin the Herculean task of turning the dirt over to stir in this organic mush, where my grateful worms will take their cue and break down all of it into rich soil. I love my worms, who work for free, by the way.

It is back-breaking work, but when fresh tomatoes and broccoli arrive in July and August, I will be munching on veggies that are superior to store-bought produce.

Gardens are a lot of work, but when you shun television or endless hours trolling through Facebook, there is time to raise your own vegetables.

Your colon will thank you in the end.

You see, I will eat anything that comes out of the ground. Vegetables are key to avoiding stomach cancer and keep things moving in and out of your system.

You get the picture!

When there is an overabundant amount of vegetables, it gives me a chance to show my neighbors appreciation with a small bag of fresh-grown greens.

What better way to say thank you to neighbors who snowplow your driveway in the dead of winter without my asking for help.

I also re-did the flower bed for my wife who enjoys nature’s living works of art. I like flowers, but I enjoy vegetables more because you can’t eat flowers.

So I will toil in the dark, rich earth, fight off varmints with my cunning and guile, and those destructive bugs, to produce the perfect tomato, cucumber, or summer squash.

Like an artist, a garden is my work of art that I present to public each spring.

A union of devotion

A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.

Mignon McLaughlin 

AUBURN, Maine — What is so perfect about our marriage is perfection does not exist.

After 23 years of being together, we want no part of being labeled the perfect couple. It is a reputation nearly impossible to live up to in any lifetime.

Today is March 24th — our anniversary and a another milestone for us.

Talk about a relationship that has seen its peaks and valleys. Our partnership has been a roller coaster of raw emotion tempered by a great deal of love and respect for each other.

We are fast approaching the quarter century mark of a union that somehow continues to endure. We don't take our commitment for granted because we both understand our marriage demands a lot of blood, sweat and tears to prevent it from dissolving like remnants of a March snowstorm slowly disappearing in the spring sun.

We've been through adversity in our lifetimes, but we are damn lucky to weather these sad moments together and not have to survive those cold nights without any sort of companionship

Throw in a wonderful son, and well, we are living the life even though we walk on the edge of a tight budget. But that could said of most married couples who are raising children as mom and dad struggle with their finances.

That's what good parents do when it comes to raising  a child — the most important job on this planet.

This has been a warm relationship sprinkled with moments of loud disagreements. I would be lying if I said every confrontation ends with a peck on the cheek. And there are days when I am Darth Vader and she is Obi-Won Kenobi, and out come the light sabers at the dinner table.

But as a couple, we find common ground and amicably settle our disagreements with no hard feelings. Both parties are left standing and leave the battlefield with their honor intact.

Marriage isn't easy. Someone once said marriage is where two people come together to unload their baggage. I think that is true and necessary to keep a union from unraveling from outside forces that often test a strong partnership.

Look, whenever I walk through the door and holler, "Honey, I am home," don't look for Terri to run to door and greet me with a loving embrace. She is no Scarlet O'Hara and I am no Rhett Butler.

And frankly I don't give a damn if we don't act like the two main characters in "Gone with the Wind."

At the end my day, I often hear: "Hey, you got some dishes to do. We need to do wash. Anthony has a doctor's appointment Someone has got to wash the floor. I need money to pay this bill."

The cat sometimes get more attention than me, and Tabby doesn't even cook or do dishes.

But I am relieved that Terri hasn't decided to trade me in for a younger model with washboard abs and dark, brown hair.

I don't know what the universe has in store for us the next 23 years. But I still see stars when I see my wife at the end of the day.