Thinking on a Maria

What a disappointing night. I have a lot of stuff to do (for a lot of people) and I’m just pacing around, forgetting what I’m doing. The life of a “writer” is such a “romantic” one. I believe that anyone alive can write. Because writing makes you feel alive.

Anyway! It’s time for some simple language. I had to talk last night. And I kept leaving the train car, to go looking for a passenger in another one. As I was talking to some of my favorite people (my nephew recently got braces. Ouch! Now, beauty is pain. And pain comes from beauty. Blah, blah, blah), los truenos (thunder) y relampagos (lightning) were threatening a storm. Ah, but what is a threat if you don’t bring it?

It didn’t rain last night. Well, I don’t think it did. Finally slept. It’s raining now. Which is a disappointment to me. I wanted to turn my compost today! I wanted to show you my muse! (She’s got too much paper in at the moment [literally] and I’ve got to mix new stuff up).

Inspiration is a bitch. She comes. She goes. She likes you. She likes you not. But as some wise writers once wrote me, inspiration must be sought (in everything/one) and an example is not always the best teacher. I’m a kinetic learner, which means I learn through practice. An italiana taught me that. And her name was Maria.

I’m referring to Montessori. Yes, she is the original muse. She taught me how to find inspiration. How to look for it. Figuratively, and yes, literally. It’s exciting to know the method of your mentor. And boy, do I love a mentor.

My favorite mentor was an old man named Dick (life writes the best puns lol). He was a dog trainer with a great story. He traveled to Germany as a boy, and learned to train the hardest dogs. The dogs that bark and bite. He taught me everything. But we’ve lost touch. I miss him. I miss him a lot. I don’t know if he’s alive, what he’s doing. But my story, I learned from him.

I learn from the Marias. And the Marys, too. And certainly, a Marisol.

I have more to share. So buckle up. Let’s go for a drive.

Garden Troubles

My tomatoes are finally turning red. We bought nine organic tomato plants in late spring and they have grown to be quite tall with many roma tomatoes hanging on the vines. I have not had any problems with pests and the rains have helped immensely. However, I have just lost a few plants.

It happened the other night as we were in bed. A large bang was heard. I assumed that a good sized branch must have fallen on the roof. The next morning, I opened the curtains to my kitchen window to see this.

A fallen limb rests on the electric wire that connects to my house.

The electric company came to lift the branch away and an electrician has been called to fix the mast on the roof (it was pulled quite hard, but not out). The ordeal has been quite scary and we are incredibly lucky that it landed where it did. The trees in my yard were trimmed last year, but branches continue to fall. This limb fell on a perfectly still night, most likely injured from a previous storm.

I have quite the mess to clean up now and I fear that my tomatoes (and jalapeños, which are beneath the limb) have been damaged beyond repair.

So, I picked what I could reach and left the few broken tomatoes in the yard for the squirrels. Oh, this is life. Take a look at your trees, and make sure to trim sick, dying, or damaged limbs. Though the branch wiped out some of my tomato plants, our house is safe. And in all reality, who needs nine tomato plants anyway?