 A co-worker at Michele’s office brought in some tomatoes. Wow! This is what tomatoes are supposed to look like. And the person has SO MANY TOMATOES she has to share them. I am thinking my tomato plant just does not have any role models. How is this plant supposed to grow and flourish when it is stuck in a pot in the back yard of some old man who has a brown thumb? Answer? Community interaction! A mentoring session! Role model! I took the two successful tomatoes out and introduced them to my plant. At first my plant was overwhelmed with inferiority. I tried to explain Brene` Brown's thoughts regarding vulnerabilty-How to dare to be Vulnerable. Vulnerability will transform the way we live. (And hopefully Grow) “Here you go! These are tomatoes. Now growth forth and shine!”  Only Time Will Tell...
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I am not a good gardener. I watch Central Texas Gardner on local PBS station every week. I watch the show and pay special attention to the plants that should work best in the conditions in our yard. We have a lot of shade trees and portions of the yard receive little sunlight. After watching, I go to the nursery and of course cannot remember what I am supposed to buy and end up buying all the wrong stuff. During this pandemic we are seeing shortages of everything from toilet paper to basic groceries. I can hardly keep up with what I should be trying to hoard. No wait…I am not being a good citizen if I hoard. My solution…plant an old fashion victory garden. Sort of a victory garden.  So why do tomatoes cost $7.50 each? Amazingly simple…I spent a total of $15.00 on one tomato plant, a lovely blue wire stand, and some new soil. Planted the tomato plant in a fairly good size pot on wheels. Wheels? So, I could move if necessary, to improve exposure to sun light. I am not asking for a farm subsidy nor am I going to start a GoFundMe page. All I am saying is, these are going to be some pricey tomatoes. The result, and I may be premature in this analysis, is that I have two tomatoes. I have not harvested them…YET! If I can bring them to the table…they will cost $7.50 each. I am not sure if I can truly call that a victory.  Interesting…I do not have normal mother memories. Without revisiting history that is over 70 years old, let me just say that I had less than a normal childhood. The woman I most often refer to as my mother, Mildred Gantt Bacon. My dad’s second wife.
But let me back up to my grandmother Georgia Mae Bacon. I lived with my grandparents for a while when I was maybe 11 or 12. Georgia, in my memory was not a very warm and nurturing women. However, to her credit she was a strong and determined women. What seems very normal by today’s standards of mini-vans, soccer practices and two income families, was not the norm in the late 50’s. Georgia had a job and owned her own car. A 1956 Ford Fairlane 4 door hard top, baby blue and white with a Thunderbird engine. She drove herself everywhere she needed to go and took care of the household and worked. No way a “Leave It To Beaver” home. She was the first to set boundaries in my life. My fondest memory of Georgia…she made incredible fig preserves. Fig Preserves to this day are my favorite. Mildred Gantt Bacon. I cannot remember how long she was married to my dad. Mildred did get the challenge of her life when she adopted me. Through junior high and high school, she was able to turn me around from a punk ass inner city hustler to a respectable young man. And it was not easy. One of the things I will always remember about Mildred…one day when I had been a complete and utter disaster, she stopped and look at me and said- “I will always love you. But, right now young man I don’t like you very much!” Food…has to be her banana pudding. My brother Richard would say her ambrosia salad. Alma Jean Waldman. Michele’s Mother. The first time I met AJ I was immediately consumed by her warmth and love. It was like being wrapped in a soft comforter. I felt accepted and cared for. Her constant joy and commitment to her family was forever. She was an individual full of grace and creativity. A piece of colored glass, a shiny bead, button, or any other item that she came across, was suddenly part of some future craft project. If there was ever a category for “Craft Hoarder” she certainly would fit that mold. Food…tuna casserole (sometimes without the tuna). Michele Grace Waldman (Bacon). Early in our relationship Michele made it clear she was not interested in mothering me. That was okay with me. Little did she know that just keeping up with what I am doing or not doing would be such a challenge. (Remember inner city hustler?) Michele as a mother is a person that fits into, in my opinion, the perfect mother with adult kids. Always willing to help, give an opinion when asked, and listen. It is hard to find a lot of information on motherhood with adult children. However, if there were, it would be Michele. Our kids…or as we have begun to call them “ya-our” kids. Yours, mine, and ours. By age…Jennifer, Jo-anna and James. She loves them all and they in turn love her. And they respect her. That in my opinion represents motherhood at this stage in one’s life. Those are my thoughts about motherhood and Mother’s Day. Notice this is posted two days after Mother’s Day. No, I didn’t forget Mother's Day! In the age of the internet, TV, streaming services, and podcasts…I have turned to the newspaper.
That’s right! I have renewed my subscription to the Austin American Statesman. It is delivered everyday and I can tell you right now starting my day sitting on the back porch with a cup of coffee and the newspaper is incredible. Michele and I decided a week ago to not turn on the TV first thing in the morning. The Today Show, like all the other networks, has become the COVID19 Network. I couldn’t take another morning of BREAKING NEWS showing the chart busting numbers of cases and deaths. At least with the newspaper I can just turn the page or close my eyes. The newspaper doesn’t invade my brain with sound. And the newspaper gives me my Horoscope and a Sudoku puzzle. I am not smart enough to do the crossword puzzle. Now if I can just get the paper delivery person to stop throwing the paper into the bushes. There is a gentle rain falling outside. Forecast for more later today. And I am at home.
Because I am categorized as in a “Special Group”, I am supposed to stay at home. 73 years old with heart history and COPD. Isn’t it remarkable, that I am so immature that when I am told not to do something that is exactly what I want to do? Grocery shopping…we normally have groceries delivered. Michele working full time and me working almost full time…it just seemed easier to fill out the Shipt app and have the groceries delivered. But now that I am being told not to go to the grocery store. That is exactly what I want to do! I MUST SHOP!!! Of course, I keep asking all sorts of people their opinion regarding my imposed restrictions. Hoping I will find someone who agrees with me…that I CAN go shopping. The latest my Ortho Doctor. He just stared at me and finally said…Absolutely not! Then I asked the young lady at the Starbucks drive thru window. She just stared at me as if she did not understand the question. So! Why not take this time to go online and start Blogging. Anyone out there that thinks I should go to the grocery store, feel free to reply. If you do not think I should go the store…keep it to yourself. I already have 23 people who keep telling me to stay home. Meanwhile stay safe and call your family and loved ones. There are a lot of things in my life that I seem to lose track off. Just today I found 26 Forever Postage Stamps.
The common joke around our house is…” The things I own are only exceeded by the things I can’t find.” This website is one of the things I have completely forgotten. Oh, I keep paying for the web hosting. So, let’s see if I can sustain a line of creativity by keeping up with this site. The Twitter feed seems to load automatically. That makes it easy. @lessbacon |
Joe Bacon
Happily Married to Michele and living in central Texas. Archives
May 2020
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