Comments on: green

By: Little Monkies

Little Monkies — Tue, 29 May 2007 14:46:38 +0000

Um, maybe the red maple got is start as a seedling in Korea…you know with globalization and all that. That’s how I am going to think of it because it’s a lovely story and you should never ruin a good story for lack of facts. At least that’s what my father taught me!

By: sober briquette

sober briquette — Tue, 29 May 2007 05:04:57 +0000

thank you for sharing this.

By: Bon

Bon — Tue, 29 May 2007 00:07:10 +0000

ahem. apparently it is NOT a Japanese maple…it is a red maple. i stand gently corrected by Dave. i wanted a Japanese maple. apparently they wouldn’t grow well here. apparently someone explained this to me at the time. apparently i have been living in arboreal denial…blush.

goes to show how much i know about plant life. but i do love that tree, whatever it is.

By: Nico

Nico — Mon, 28 May 2007 23:41:31 +0000

You have such a way with words. I love your writing. I’m glad you’re finding it possible to heal, but without forgetting Finn.

On a lighter note, I noticed Oscar’s socks matching his outfit. Very impressed!

By: Jennifer

Jennifer — Mon, 28 May 2007 22:19:59 +0000

This is just a lovely post. And I just love the pics of your sweet Oscar.

I wish I were a gardener. Unfortunately, I have no abilities when it comes to the outdoorsy activities.

By: Little Monkies

Little Monkies — Mon, 28 May 2007 18:07:23 +0000

I was fine until I read the Frost poem.

I loved seeing O’s chubbiness above his socks.

Winter, spring, winter, spring…you are hardy stock, my friend.

My husband finds gardening meditative. Who knows?

By: bon

bon — Mon, 28 May 2007 16:15:10 +0000

Redneck Mommy…

we planted two clumped birches, on either side of the Japanese maple. the Japanese maple is actually native to Korea, too, which is where Finn was conceived, and the maple part seemed a nice connection to Canada, where he was born…plus Dave & i both have always just liked them. the birches…do you know the Robert Frost poem “birches?” it is in some ways about survival, and in another about boys…and somehow it seemed fitting for my boy who would never get to swing from birch trees, for all i’d hoped for him, at least. it’s long, but the last bit goes…

It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

By: cath

cath — Mon, 28 May 2007 16:01:11 +0000

i dreamt about the tulips in your garden last night

By: Redneck Mommy

Redneck Mommy — Mon, 28 May 2007 15:39:08 +0000

only NOW. not “know.”

My English prof would be pleased.

By: Redneck Mommy

Redneck Mommy — Mon, 28 May 2007 15:38:24 +0000

Unlike you, I have a green thumb most would envy. I can tame wild weeds and bring back the dead plants. When Bug died, I lost that greenish love.

It is only know I am trying to remember my love of gardening. And restore the order that has grown since his death.

But you are further ahead than Boo and I. We still can’t pick a commerative tree for Bug. We can’t decide what kind. Japanese maple is lovely but would die out here.

I just can’t bring myself to do this final choice just yet.

I need Oscar hugs. I think that would help. Come visit me…