Thursday, June 05, 2014
Tomorrow is Roasted Watermelon Day at camp. One of the little girls on my morning team told me her family was growing watermelons in their garden! I became acquainted with the concept of home agriculture as a child unwillingly- it was the kids' job to work in our family garden, primarily pulling weeds and hoeing. If you knew my dad, you know how much he loved the piece of landscape in St. Louis that was his yard. When I would visit, there would be projects he would want us to work on together. I was much more enthusiastic to spend time working in the dirt as an adult than I was as a child. This was written on July 3, 2006 after spending time with Dad tilling the soil on his homestead.
Dad and I worked in the yard this morning under ideal conditions; upper 70's and no sun. We put in about two hours preparing his garden compost for next Spring. My job was hauling mulch in a wheel barrel from the low end of the driveway to back of the house, a distance of fifty yards, uphill all the way. Dad has this grand scheme: he gets as much pleasure from the compost as he does from the garden which will be the beneficiary of the compost. The mulch came from some guys who cut trees down and then chip them into shreds. (I asked Dad the difference between tree mulch and sawdust and I wasn't totally satisfied with the answer.) The tree guys, at Dad's behest, dumped a huge pile of wood chips at the drive entrance and he is going to use them as the base, along with leaves, for his next compost heap. I own a pair of Nikes that I only wear several times per year. They stay in Dad's garage, awaiting my return. Dad always has yard work he needs help with when I come and it entails getting muddy. I got tired of having to wash my shoes before I got on the plane after each visit so I brought an old pair from home and left them here. They already are dirty and full of holes so I can't damage them. I'm sure Dad will find a way to get more use of them in my time remaining here. Dad estimates the mulch heap is 55% removed. I think 53% but I don't want to quibble.
I'm not a big shoe guy but still, I have my five pairs specialized;
1. Nike work shoes/ use previously explained
2. Nike running shoes/ used for coaching and non-formal occasions on the town
3. New Balance running shoes/ used for my workouts
4. Giorgio Brutini dress shoes (brown)/ used when wearing khaki pants
5. Dockers dress shoes (black)/ used when wearing other colored dress pants
I'm no what's in guru but I do take style into account when purchasing footwear; I want to be at least semi-chic. Shoes are so readily available to us that they become more of a fashion statement than a necessity. I do have one more pair of shoes I didn't list. In fifteen days, I will leave for Honduras and I plan to leave a pair of Nikes with someone who needs them, which does not do much to narrow the field of candidates. When I offer the shoes to someone, I'm pretty certain I won't hear, "Well, I was really looking for something more in the lines of a workout shoe." Desperate people don't tend to be conditional or picky. I fall on the picky side until I get in the desperate mode. I have specialized wants, kind of like my shoe selections. But the Lord gives me what I need when I need it, not necessarily what I want when I want it. Who am I to quibble? In the Parable of the Prodigal Son, what did the father tell the servants to bring his filthy, stinking son when he drug himself back to the farm? A robe, ring, and shoes! The boy got what he needed and well past what he could have realistically dreamed of. Maybe someone in the south of Honduras is dreaming of Nike running shoes. The Lord delivers better than UPS- and without those ugly brown uniforms.
PS Dad got the first tomatoes of the year out of his garden last week!
Applicable quote of the day:
"I'm like old shoes. I've never been hip. I think the reason I'm still here is that I was never enough in fashion that I had to be replaced by something new."
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Posted by Steve Hawley at 8:50 PM