“It Might Have Been Bette . . . “

I love this quote from Bette Midler. The revelation that composting helps you see your place in “the big picture” is simply brilliant. Simple and brilliant.

This is a simple comic. . . with a nice twist of thought at the end. Not brilliant, clever maybe. . . but a simple moment that has a much deeper meaning. If you read the previous comic, Doris was thankful that her neighbor, Wiley was mowing her lawn, so she had the idea to make him an apple crisp in appreciation. . . but the apples weren’t crisp. . . a little mushy even. . . and that’s a subject for another day, why we’re buying apples in July that were packaged in Washington state back last October and they’re not edible . . . Back to the buy local and in season mindset/mantra? Yes.

Anyway. . . today we find that Doris likely brought the over ripe apples out to her compost pile where other creatures could enjoy them, like Wormy and Link. Our critters get a nice snack, but this is also a place where we can take a look into the “big picture.” What else is implied here? Now, I’m going to freely admit that this comic is “just a comic” and not anything other than a small moment where, if we’ve connected, you get a little smile and hopefully take a moment to think about who Granny Smith really was or what she may have looked like. . . or not. But it’s those small moments that matter. The tiny seeds of other stories that we connect. The threads of memories that sew themselves into a different piece of our human fabric.

Part of my fabric is the experience of growing up in a small neighborhood where neighbors helped neighbors. Where the little things mattered. If your lawn mower wouldn’t start, the neighbor would lend you theirs, or maybe mow the lawn if they knew you were ill or unable to. The reciprocation of baking a pie or crisp or coffee cake to say “thank you.” The caring for each other in small but meaningful ways. There’s something beautiful about stopping to say hello when you see each other, to share a brief story or check in on their lives and it makes us realize that we aren’t alone. We aren’t that different. Yes, we’ve all had some neighbors that we learn to just wave to and not interact with. . . some more bad apples that we’ll talk about another day. . . but that’s not the norm.

As humans we innately fear the unknown. The people that look different from us, that communicate in language we don’t understand. . . apples of another color. If all you’ve ever known is the Granny Smith, how are you supposed to accept a Macoun or Honeycrisp? But if you never introduce yourself to the amazing Farmer’s Market of Humanity, you are depriving yourself of many delicious interactions and the fruit of life itself.

Soooo. . . . . FINALLY, I’ve gotten to the introduction to a video and song that I want to share. I mentioned in the last blog that I would have A LOT more to tell you about JJ Heller. . . an artist/singer/writer/Mom/wife and neighbor I’d like to introduce you to. I’ve spent a few hours in the past few days, listening to her songs and watching her videos. I shared “Growing Older” as part of the previous blog, connecting to Doris’ thoughts of aging. . . and today I’m going to share “Neighbor.” I’m really moved by this song and the message. Probably because it (and the song “Gardening”) relate so much to what Peter and I are intending to do with “At the Green House.” We have a talent (talents) and a view of life that we want to share with the world. We want to share positivity and create messages of joy and connectivity. We want to help build a community of kindred spirits who share ideas and stories and songs that help make each other’s days a little greener.

I hope to soon reach out to JJ and her husband David and thank them for sharing their stories and music. . . and to also help other friends of ours connect to them. I feel like we’re all in the same place of spiritual awareness. . . that we’re here for each other, no matter if it’s connecting through the internet, over the fence or in our backyard. We’re all connected in the garden and maybe even more so in the compost pile. That awareness, like the Divine Miss M said, is the “epiphany.”

I hope you enjoy this song and reach out to tell JJ that you do. . . I will and I’m grateful to be part of her neighborhood.

Peace,

Brad