happier times

While I was gone last week, Z kindly agreed to keep my plants alive. In addition to daily hand watering, it also involves dragging the hose across the lawn a few times a week to water the little north garden. When I returned home, I was glad to see that all of the plants appeared to have been watered. However, the zucchini plant looked absolutely mangled. Z noticed that it looked bad, but didn’t know what had happened. Perhaps a major windstorm?

sad, mangled zucchini plant

sad, mangled zucchini plant

Last night when I pulled the hose around to the north side of the house, I figured it out: the hose probably had been dragged over the zucchini plant. I’m not going to lie: I really liked the zucchini plant and was sad to see it in such a sorry state. I wondered if he was agitated about having to water the plants, was he just careless, or was it an absolute honest mistake?

zucchini plant a month ago, during happier times

Zucchini plant a month ago, during happier times (though if I look closely, the leaves already have some type of blight).

As someone who is nourished by time alone, I often wonder if a relationship is really right for my soul, and nothing brings out these thoughts quite like when my guy mangles a beloved zucchini plant. I don’t have to think about it very long before I think decide that yes, it’s worth it. This guy makes me really happy, life is better with him, and compromise in this relationship isn’t really compromising myself. 

Still, I’ll probably always be haunted by something a mentor said to me: that her relationship was never a compromise. This is a woman whom I admire, a woman who is in the second half of her life so to speak: second partner, second career, etc. Having relationships, having children, etc. all seems like a major compromise. My dad says I’m too selfish. This is not necessarily an insult, though it may be intended as such. I think most of us have some sort of inherent selfishness as part of our own self-preservation.

Here’s the thing, plants that think they’re dying tend to put on fruit like crazy–a last ditch effort at their own self preservation. Previously, the plant put on about one fruit every few weeks. It was slow steady progress, but given the limitations of patio gardening, I was happy with the output. Now, the plant is ugly, but it has two zucchini plants on it, which is a first, and several new blooms!something that wouldn’t’ve happened if I hadn’t welcome someone like Z into my life, who has a different way of doing things, a way that leads to more abundance than my way of doing things alone.


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