Pulling Up Weeds
We had to tear out the tomato plants the other day. Maine was very rainy this summer, and even though there were lots of green and pink globes on the vine, they were rotting and bug-infested. Being the cautious soul I am, I wanted to look over each one, just to make sure. My beloved husband just ripped them out and threw them into the woods.
This approach to the tomato plants can be viewed on so many levels. Me: I make excuses, I live in hope. Venus. Him: Scorched earth, take no prisoners. Mars.
I wonder how people can see the same things but interpret them so differently. This political season is particularly rife with diametrically opposed viewpoints. I wonder what it is about my face that indicates I’d like to engage in debate. I’m an independent voter, so there’s no bumper sticker on my car. I don’t wear buttons or partisan T-shirts. But I listened politely as the furnace repairman lectured me on socialism in my basement yesterday. I kind of wondered what century he was living in. Just last week the copier repairman gave me the same spiel in the faculty room at school. There must be something in the toner or on talk radio.
But getting rid of the bad tomatoes reminds me of editing. Sometimes you just have to delete the words. Root out the evil. Vote the bums out.
I have a bumper sticker now.
Is this campaign season affecting you? Are you a proponent of the Venus-Mars theory? How did your garden grow?